


Bird stranded

by Yui_Cheshire



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, DCU, Miraculous Ladybug, Super Sons (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Crossover, Damian Wayne is Robin, Damian Wayne-centric, Dimension Travel, Gen, Mild Language, POV Damian Wayne, Will add more tags as I go
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-26
Updated: 2020-09-30
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:21:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 29,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24387373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yui_Cheshire/pseuds/Yui_Cheshire
Summary: It was supposed to be a routine mission. After having tracked a Falcone shipment to Paris, Damian was supposed to observe a possible meet-up point, and then report back to Batman. He was not supposed to suddenly find himself in different universe! But it is what it is, and now, with these so-called superheroes in Paris, he will have to try and find a way back home. Oh, and perhaps take down Hawk Moth in the process. No big deal.
Relationships: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir & Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Alya Césaire & Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug & Damian Wayne, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 62
Kudos: 144





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Hello there, this is my very first fanfic! I‘ve been on this site for ages, but I recently got into the Batman fandom. I was looking for crossovers, but there are surprisingly few? And nearly all Miraculous crossovers shipped Damian and Marinette. I‘m not a super big fan of that ship, so I‘ve decided to write my own fic instead! I hope you guys enjoy.

Robin was sitting on top of a sizeable five-story house, overlooking the abandoned building over to his left, to the other side of an alley. The building was not decrepit or anything, simply having been left empty after the previous owner found a better place somewhere else. One flat in particular was not supposed to be inhabited by anyone, but Robin had seen someone enter, who was now doing something on some kind of screen. The only light was from this illuminated screen, and would not have been noticeable under usual circumstances. However, Robin had been on the look-out for suspicious activity in this vicinity, and had tracked the movement of every possible person around. 

Funnily enough, that particular building was not the one Robin had thought he would have to watch.

Batman, Red Robin and himself had come to Paris about a week ago. An informant had dropped a hint to a drug shipment, that the head of the Falcones himself was supervising, and tracking this shipment had lead them to Paris. Drake had insisted accompanying them, as technically, he had been the one to discover the tip, but Damian was not particularly happy. They had been forced to keep a rather low profile, as to not alert Falcone to their presence. 

While he had no idea of course, that the Wayne family were a group of crime-fighting vigilantes at night, their appearance, just when Falcone was here, would still be suspicious. After all, there was no reason for any Gothamite to be in Paris at this particular time. So, they had flown in under false names, and had rented themselves only a single flat. Granted, at least Damian did not have to share a room with his most inferior ‘brother’, but being cooped up in a flat with this nuisance was starting to grate on his nerves. Thus, he was very grateful to be able to get out and donn the suit tonight. Any chance to get away from Drake and his presence had been a welcome one.

_This was NOT an excuse. It was a CHANCE._

Drake would stay behind, and while Batman was investigating a rumour in the outskirts of Paris, Damian got the pleasure of surveying a more respectable neighbourhood. The warehouse across the street was a promising location for a drug deal, after all. 

Now, he was watching the little apartment block situated in the opposite direction, instead.

_“Robin, update.”_

His comm crackled with the voice of his father. Damian stifled a sigh. 

“I watched a suspicious man entering a different building. It is supposed to be abandoned, but the man has been working with his computer for the past thirty minutes or so. I have a visual on him, but so far, his only suspicious activity has been the entering in itself. No sign of Falcone or any of his men in the warehouse.”

Damian checked the direction of the warehouse again. No, still empty. Not a soul in sight. The occasional car drove past, but it was only midnight, and it was Paris. No one was stopping in the vicinity. 

He glanced back at the apartment block. The man was gone. Damian cursed.

“The suspicious man has disappeared. Shall I investigate?”

A grating laugh from his brother. _“Did Robin just a loose a guy? I can‘t believe it. You of all people—“ “Enough”_ , Batmans voice intervened. _“Robin, you have my permission to investigate. Red Robin, keep an eye on the cameras around the warehouse. Report back if there is anything noteworthy.”_

Damian mumbled his affirmative, and jumped from the building. He let himself free fall for a second, then shot his grapple across the street. Once landed, he shook his head. _Nightwing was rubbing off on him._

Silently, he entered through a window close to the original room he had spotted the man in. Currently, the building looked empty. But Damian had not seen the man leave- he would have to keep his guard up.

Just as he was thinking this, a soft clank rang through the corridor. Damian looked up, just in time to see a small canister roll into sight. Already, white smoke was escaping and filling the hallway. Quickly, Damian reached for his rebreather, only for his hands to pat an empty pocket. _He had forgotten to restock it after running into that burning building two days ago_. Immediately, he put his hand against his nose and mouth and held his breath. With the other hand, he activated his distress signal. He could only hope the man hadn‘t somehow jammed the signal. Damian was starting to believe he may have underestimated his opponent.

Trying to reach the window he had just entered from, Damian was already starting to feel lightheaded. _This was bad. Really bad._ He couldn‘t run anymore. He collapsed, and continued to crawl towards an exit. _He hadn‘t even breathed much! How could it have spread this far, in a matter of seconds?_ He was starting to black out. Just as his vision faded, the silhouette of the man he had seen came into view. 

_That bastard…_

—————————————————————————

When he came to, he found himself tied to a chair. His head hurt with an on-coming headache, and his ribs hurt like someone had kicked them. There was also wound on his thigh, from when he had collapsed and gotten stuck on a floor board. Damian mentally scoffed. _Such originality_. He didn‘t dare open his eyes just yet though.

Trying to get a feel for the room he was in, he let his senses reach around. The air was a little cold, but also quite stale. The stuffy scent of old wall paper filled the room, and it smelt of dust and old furniture. He couldn‘t hear anything outside of the buzzing of an old lamp. After having been surprised by his opponent, Damian was no longer underestimating this man, and was half expecting this loud light to be intentional. He couldn‘t tell whether he was alone or not.

Otherwise, he could not find out much more without opening his eyes and signalling his capturer that he was awake. He carefully tested his bindings, but the zip-ties binding his hands behind his back were tied tightly, with the excess removed. Then, as if his captor knew exactly how slippery a robin could be, he had used braided rope to secure each arm to a side of the back, leading to his elbows being stretched far apart. Already he could feel his blood flow getting tied off if he didn‘t get out soon. Meanwhile, each ankle was tied to a leg of the chair, and the chair seemed bolted to the floor. _This man was prepared_. It seemed like he had known the Bats would be in town this week… Damian did not like the implication of that.

He decided to to open his eyes. Immediately, he was greeted to the sight of a desk across from him, with a man silently sitting behind it, legs up, next to a computer set-up. Next to him stood an old lamp that generated hazy yellow light and a very loud buzzing. Damian had been right. The noise was deliberate. 

“I see you are awake.”

Damian glared a his captor. He had to save time, get the man talking. There was no way he was getting out of this chair by himself. He could only wait and hope that Drake and his father had gotten his signal. So he stayed silent, hoping that would goad the man to try getting a verbal reaction from him. Screaming would not get any attention from the outside. No, his best choice was staying still.

The man studied him. “You know”, he said, “I was expecting someone a little tougher than you, little Robin. Instead, I find a child, who was out for nearly half an hour from a tiny whiff of my new gas.” His voice was neither deep nor particularly high. It had a slight French accent, and, in another situation, might have come off as rather smooth. But now, it only annoyed Damian. He bit back an indignant response, instead opting to glare harder.

“My acquaintance had said that you were a slippery one- hard to lure anywhere, and harder to capture. Apparently, you are a very well trained little birdie, are you not?“ He scoffed. “Little matter. I have caught you, now I can see that you are little more than an squawking pigeon. Not sure if you were worth the effort.”

Behind his self-imposed silence, Damian seethed. He could see the man was gloating, could see he was waiting for his fury. But Damian knew that he would talk longer if he only got silent responses. So, he schooled his expression into a more neutral look and took a deep breath to calm himself.

The man narrowed his eyes. They were a very light green, Damian remarked. The reflected the light and seemed almost demon-like. The man wasn‘t particularly tall, and was dwarfed by the set-up on the desk in-front of him. Still, his nonchalant pose designated how powerful he felt, how comfortable. He seemed very aware that he was currently in control of the situation, and was not happy that his ‘captured little bird’ was not singing.

“I was also told that you had quite the mouth on you. You know, I was debating whether to use a gag on you or not, but thought for sure you would be more entertaining without. Instead, I find a mute. Colour me slightly surprised.” He waited for a response. 

Then he sighed. “It seems my intel was wrong.” It seemed like he was about to shift his focus to whatever was on his screens, so Damian decided he would have to start talking now.

“Who are you.”

The man nearly beamed with twisted joy. His eyes sparkled with bad intent, and he adopted a pleasant smile. He looked hungry. Damian gulped. That expression was never a good sign.

“Trying to stall me, are you? You were quiet for so long, were you hoping for me to monologue?” The man‘s gaze seemed pitying. Damian hated to be mocked. “Aren‘t you monologuing right now?”, he snapped. The man‘s eyes glinted dangerously. 

“Well yes, I suppose so. But let me stop you right there. Who I am is of no consequence. Who I was hired by, is a secret of trade. I am sure Batman is on his way. After all, I did not stop your emergency beacon to be activated. However, I believe he is on the other side of Paris? It will take a while for him to arrive here. Paris traffic is horrible, even this late at night. I nearly regret coming here. Disgusting city. The city of love, _mon cul_.“ At this, the man stood up. Only now could Damian see the little device he held in his hand, connected to the computers. 

The man came closer, careful of the wire between the device and the desk. He was still rather short, but Damian had yet to hit his growth spurt. He cursed innerly, glaring up at his opponent. Powerless as he was, that was all he seemed capable of doing right now. Lots of glaring. _Useless._ He cursed innerly again.

The man now stood in front of the chair. Smirking, he looked down at Damian, and brought the device to his face. “You see this?”, he said. 

“This is my new machine. It is my child, and you have the privilege to be the first to test it. You see, my client was rather adamant I not kill you. Just unreachable. Gone. That is why he asked me, you see. I have”, he paused, searching for a word, “well, a talent of making things disappear. I am, if I may say so myself, quite a magician. Big bad Batman will not know where his poor Robin has disappeared to. Poof, gone. But I am not mean. I wait for my audience to arrive. And I always explain to my little help what he will go through. I am nice like that.”

Looking towards the door, the man paused for a second. Damian wasn‘t entirely sure what the man had seemingly noticed, but his smirk grew wider. Damian grew more uncomfortable. But he also watched the man more skeptically. It seemed he had gotten him talking after all, but he was not happy with what he was hearing. Now, if only his family could _hurry it up a little, he was not keen on being tested on._

“You see”, the man took up his rambling again, “once I press this little button at the top, it will send out a concentrated beam that will transport whatever it lands on to another dimension! A bit like a portal gun, but it does not open a portal. It just zaps the subject with the concentrated portal energy. Just a very minor difference. You see, I wish I had managed to make those pretty swirly portals you see on television when inter-dimensional travel is alluded. But no, this one is less aesthetically pleasing. You see…”

While his captor droned on about the different aspects of his ‘portal gun’, Damian groaned. Of course the lead Drake found would somehow lead to Damian being transported to another universe by a…hired bi-polar wanna-be magician? Damian was really not sure. But only missions involving Drake could ever take strange turns like this one. How did Todd put it? Ah yes, “whacky hijinks follow Timmers around like a particularly stupid dog”. Not that dogs were stupid.

The man was still talking, and then a wailing sound from the computer set-up cut him off. He looked at Damian, with a sort of smugness, like a particularly nasty cat. Damian hissed at him. His captor just laughed. “That would probably be your cavalry, your highness!”, he called out jovially. Then he put his finger to the button.

Damian tensed up, but the man hadn‘t pressed it. Yet. 

They waited in terse silence. When the computer wailed again, the man laughed again. 

“It seems big bat is close enough to hear us now, anything to say?” Damian grit his teeth, but dutifully started talking. “Father, I se-“ “Oops, time has run out.” Damian looked at the man, affronted, but his captor was grinning at the door. Suddenly, the door opened, Batman storming in. And the man pressed the button.

Then, Damian knew no more.

—————————————————————————

In a very different place, at a very different time, a dark-haired girl came home from a late night with her friends, to find a kid in a Halloween costume passed out in-front of her parents’ bakery.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> French:  
>  _mon cul_ – my ass
> 
> So here it is, I‘d love to hear your thoughts! Just a disclaimer though, because I‘ve only watched the first season of Miraculous, and most of my DCU knowledge is from Young Justice, Teen Titans and Son of Batman. So some of this is going to be second-hand info I‘ve adopted from other fanfiction.
> 
> Please give me any feedback, this work is unbetaed ^-^“


	2. First Impressions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter! I hope you enjoy :)

Damian came to slowly. He let his eyes stay closed as he gradually faded into consciousness. What had happened? He couldn‘t remember. Trying to find any answers through the thick fog that clouded his mind was starting to prove futile. His head hurt. Badly. He would have to tell father- Father. He had seen him, hadn‘t he? There was something there. If he could just- The memories of what happened came flooding back, and Damian had to consciously stop himself from bolting upright. 

He didn‘t know where he was, for all he knew, he could currently be in hostile territory! _His mask. Was his identity still safe?_ He wasn’t wearing it anymore. Resolutely squashing the panic he felt coming up at that fact, he tried to stay calm, at least until he could find out more about his situation. Keeping his eyes closed, he let his other senses reach out to get a grasp on his surroundings.

Damian was lying on a soft surface. _A bed?_ He was still wearing his Robin uniform, but someone had removed it in parts. He could feel that his thigh was bandaged. His ribs ached. He really hoped that whoever had found him didn‘t know of Robin, or at least didn‘t know what to do with his identity.

Damian carefully released a breath he hadn‘t known he was holding. If he was in hostile territory, he probably wouldn‘t have woken up at all.

Deciding that he shouldn’t delay the inevitable any longer, Damian slowly opened his eyes. He was greeted to the sight of a bright ceiling. Light was flooding in through a window to his left, just above where he lay, and two more windows were letting in sunlight from the other sides. The room he was in seemed to be a U-shaped dome, and he was lying across from the straight wall. From his ‘bed’, Damian could see a desk, and a small staircase leading up to a loft. However, from this angle, he couldn‘t see what was on top of that. The wallpaper was a creamy pink, and, if he had to guess, he was probably in some kind of attic, a room just beneath the roof.

He…wasn‘t sure what to make of this. The room reminded him of what he would think Stephanie Brown‘s room looked like, just less purple. Brown was, after all, notoriously attached to the eggplant colour.

The question arose, however, as to why he was lying in what seemed to be a girl‘s bedroom. 

Just as he was musing this, a trapdoor he hadn‘t noticed previously, opened. Out came a girl, probably around his age, carrying a tray. From the smell, Damian guessed it was some kind of baked goods. She was entirely focussed on that tray, and hadn‘t noticed yet that he was awake.

Which was exactly how Damian preferred it, as the minute the trapdoor opened, he was already on his feet, scouring the room for some kind of weapon. This was also the moment in which he realised, that all of his own weapons were missing. 

Finally, the girl noticed him. Their gazes met. Damian growled.

"Who are you."

The girl startled. "_T‘es reveillé? Ah, a-anglais? Uhm ben…_ I am…uhh…Marinette?" She set down her tray on a little table next to a big, full length mirror, and gestured awkwardly. "You…uh…should not…uhh…stand? Standing? You are uhh…blessed?" She winced, gestured to her thigh, and lamely said "_Aiie_."

Damian narrowed his eyes at her, but dutifully sat back down on what he now recognised to be a _chaise longue_ instead of a bed. The girl was unassuming, looking rather like a civilian. Her body language was slightly suspicious, but unguarded. No properly trained individual moved like that in the presence of a perceived threat, so she was most likely unaware of the implications of his Robin costume. 

He decided to stop her floundering by saying, in perfect French, "I understand French. There is no need for your broken English."

The girl, Marinette apparently, deflated, slumping in relief. 

"Oh thank God, I wasn‘t sure how far we‘d get with my English." She hesitated. "Was it really…that bad?"

"Atrocious", he said, without missing a beat. Best to play along for now, and see what her angle was. It turned out, he didn‘t have to wait long to find out, because she immediately launched into nervous rambling.

"Ha, hilarious. So who are you anyway? Because like, you were lying unconscious in front of my parents‘ bakery, you know? And I couldn‘t just leave you there. I mean, you were bleeding! How is your thigh, anyway? You know, at first I thought you were an akumatised person, but than I realised I could take off your mask, and also the skin around your eyes isn’t red, so what‘s up with your costume? Halloween is still, like, at least half a year away! Or is this for carnival? But that‘s also already a month past. Are you just a cosplayer? Also, that is some amazing material. I mean, I‘m not sure what exactly your costume is made of, but it was crazy hard getting you out of it. Also also, why isyour mask so complicated? I had to find and trigger this little mechanism- oh it‘s probably so it doesn‘t fall off, right? That‘s really cool. Such detail! That‘s really amazing. Do you think you could explain the design to me sometime? You see, I want to become a fashion designer…"

From there, she went on a tangent about fashion and how she could _maybe incorporate certain elements of his Robin suit, pretty please?_ Damian sighed. If this was some kind of strategy to get him to lower his defence, it was quite a strange tactic. He was starting to get annoyed the longer she went on, but just sighed, exasperated. Two years ago, he might have snapped at her angrily, but now, he was simply tired. His head hurt. He did not want to deal with this.

He held up his hand to get her to stop talking. Marinette shut her mouth mid-sentence. She was apparently aware enough to notice she was just rambling at this point. Good. Maybe she was not a complete idiot.

Best to ask her what was going on. He didn‘t know yet whether he really was in another dimension, as the man who had kidnapped him had told him previously. Before he could judge, he would have to get his own research done. 

For now, he decided the best course of action would be to ask her everything she knew. Starting with their exact location. 

"Where am I? I understand that you found me in front of your parents‘ bakery? Who bandaged me up?", he asked.

Marinette smiled, and said "We‘re in Paris, 4 Rue St. Aurélie, in Septième. We‘re actually on the corner between that street and Place des Vosges. My parents own the bakery, and we‘re currently in the attic of the house. This is my room! We don‘t have a guest bedroom, so I thought this would be the best place to put you. As for who patched you up, well…" She hesitated. Damian nodded at her to continue. "My parents are actually on one of their few vacations, you know? Running a bakery is super busy, but they‘re visiting family in China for once. So when I found you, I didn‘t call them, because, well, I don‘t want them to have to interrupt their holiday for this. And I have some first aid training? My friend‘s mum is a nurse. Uhm…if you want, I can still get you to a hospital…?"

Damian shook his head. "No hospital." He looked away and sighed again. "Thank you, I suppose."

Marinette squeaked "N-no problem! You were pretty banged, haha." Then, on a more serious note "So, what happened? You’re a strange boy, wearing a costume, and I found you bleeding out in front of my house. You haven‘t even told me your name!" She bit her lip and turned away. "Maybe I shouldn‘t have told you I was home alone…" She turned back to him, suspicious again.

Damian rolled his eyes. "My name is Damian. I come in peace." Marinette chuckled. _Jackpot._ "I am not entirely sure as to what happened", he admitted, "but I really need to find out. Could I borrow your phone" he glanced at her desk, "or your computer? I need to access the internet."

Marinette was quiet for a second, thinking. Then she nodded. "Ok", she said, "I‘ll help you get over to my desk."

She offered him her arm, and he begrudgingly took it. He didn‘t like to rely on other people, particularly strangers, but he had to admit that this girl had done nothing to harm him since he got here. On the contrary, she had bandaged him up and was continuously trying to help him. He could also see, that putting his weight on his injured thigh would not help him, and his ribs weren‘t complaining by accepting the help.

Together, they managed to get him to her desk, and she helped him into her pink chair. While they crossed the room, Damian had noticed more things. The loft seemed to hold a bed, and next to the mirror, there was a dress form. He thought back to her telling him she wanted to be a fashion designer. _Interesting._

Marinette quickly logged onto her computer, and Damian immediately memorised the password. _Adrien14. Is that perhaps her boyfriend? She did not mention any siblings…_ After setting up her computer, she told him to "go ham". Then she asked him whether he wanted to drink something.

Damian hadn‘t noticed before how thirsty he was, but now he gratefully took the offered glass of water. But he didn‘t drink it. While Marinette went away for a second, back through the trapdoor, he studied the glass. He couldn‘t see or smell any sign of tampering, but he wasn‘t just going to drink anything offered to him by an unknown. So he put it aside for now.

Then, he went online. The first thing he did was punch in the secret code Oracle had taught him. If this was his universe, she would immediately be alerted about his location. Next, he decided to search "Gotham". Gotham City was apparently an old nickname for New York. Otherwise, the only result he got were fictional places. Damian swallowed the bile he suddenly had in his mouth. 

The low panic that had him in its throes since he was first captured by the man yesterday was starting to bubble up. His breathing accelerated and got harder. He cursed. He searched "Batman", but nothing showed up. Instead, he got search results for a furniture company. He entered "Bruce Wayne", but he only found a minor martial artist that starred in two films. Damian wanted to throw up. 

When he searched his own name, there were no results. He didn‘t exist here. He was in an alternate universe. He was- he had to- how would he- what- 

His spiralling panic was interrupted by Marinette, coming back up through the trapdoor, carrying two bottles of water. He stared at her. She smiled at him brightly when she noticed his gaze, but her smile slowly dissolved into a worried frown. 

"Are you ok? You look a little green…"

"Marinette", he said, "I think I might have a problem."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> French  
>  _T‘es reveillé_ \- You‘re awake  
>  _Anglais_ \- English  
>  _ben..._ \- well...  
> Marinette also says _blessed_ instead of injured, because in French, injured means _blessé_  
>  A _chaise longue_ is a kind of sofa  
> Septième is one of the districts in Paris. The seventh one is the one with the Eiffel Tower, so I‘ve decided to have Marinette live there, as you can see the Eiffel Tower from her school. That way, she shouldn‘t live too far way from there, either. The street name is fictional, though. I could only find that the house was next to Place des Vosges. If any of you know more, please tell me!
> 
> So there you go! Tell me what you think! Will Damian tell Marinette about being from a different dimension?
> 
> If there are any mistakes, please tell me. This work is unbetaed.


	3. J‘ai pas envie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A longer chapter, for the longer wait. I haven‘t figured out an update schedule yet. ^-^“

The second the words left his mouth, Damian regretted them. 

_What was he thinking? This girl was a complete stranger!_ He must be more concussed than originally assumed, if he was already spouting around his life story, like _Brown_ , or maybe even _Drake_. He was usually much more in control of his emotions. He had to be. After all, he was Robin, and before that, he had been trained by the League of Assassins. There was no place to loose oneself.

Marinette was looking at him strangely. 

Damian cursed. 

Then he thought about it.

As far as he knew, he did not have any allies in this universe. He also did not, as a matter of fact, have any enemies either. Currently, he was completely neutral. He was, however, also completely alone. There was currently no way (that he knew of) to contact home. Perhaps he could contact some local superheroes, if there were any.

Damian filed that thought away for later. He would have to do a lot of research on this universe before he could get anywhere. 

For now, he considered his options. 

He could say nothing to Marinette, maybe knock her out _(gently)_ , find his things and be gone in under ten minutes. But where would he go? He could not stay anywhere, and he would also not have access to the internet. He would have to steal and break into homes for food and hygiene, and he would most likely have to rob a bank or at least a phone store, to be able to pay and live, and to find a way home.

Another option would be to spout some nonsense about having amnesia, and not remembering anything past his name. However, this option was generally met with much scepticism. He could probably come up with some other lie, but it would be hard to find one on the spot, and then stick with it. Too many possible inconsistencies, and very prone to suspicion. 

No, for now, it might just be in his best interest to tell the truth, or something near it, anyway. 

Damian sighed. This was not going to be easy.

He looked at Marinette, who had been starting to shift awkwardly during the prolonged silence, and started talking.

"My name is Damian Wayne, I am fourteen years old, and I believe I might be stuck in a different universe." Marinette opened her mouth to say something, but Damian pressed on. "Before you say anything, no, I am not crazy, and yes, I am quite sure. I used your computer to try and contact my…team, but there was no answer. The person who sent me here, he told me what he would do. I am familiar with dimensional travel, as it is fairly common where I am from, but I myself have never experienced it. Until now, that is. I have already verified that I do not exist in this universe, or at least, I am no individual of note."

Marinette gaped at him. 

Damian swivelled back to the computer, uncomfortable. It was obvious she had not believed him. _Perhaps he should have gone with amnesiac after all._ He looked at her warily. He could still just knock her out and find his own solution, but having an ally would be…nice. After nearly four years with a team to fall back on, he wasn‘t used to working completely alone anymore. Even _Drake_ would be preferable in this situation. 

While he was contemplating this, Marinette shook herself out of her stupor.

"You know this all sounds kind of fantastical, right?", she said. Damian took a deep breath, prepared to say… _something_ , but Marinette beat him to it. "It sounds really unreal but… there is some weird stuff going around here as well. Honestly, you coming from another dimension actually _wouldn‘t_ be the weirdest thing to happen in Paris." She smiled at him, an open expression. She still looked suspicious, but actually appeared satisfied by his answer.

 _Huh._ He‘d have to look more into this universe, if a dimension traveller was not the strangest thing to happen here. Perhaps this universe also had some kind of superhero league after all? He renewed his resolve to look into that matter. If there were some, maybe they could help him get home. 

He still had hopes that his team from his own universe would find a way to save him, and was thus not keen on leaving Paris, but it wouldn‘t hurt to try find a way from this side. 

_He really hoped they knew what had happened to him. If they thought him dead or…otherwise, it might take **years** for them to find, or even think to search for him!_

That was obviously the worst case scenario, but he was trained by the League of Assassins, and by the greatest detective. He was the son of Batman! He had to hope for the best, but expect and prepare for the worst. That was the only way to go about things. 

Damian faced Marinette and said "I am glad that you somewhat believe me. Now, could you give me back my things?"

Marinette laughed, and pushed one of the water bottles she had been carrying into the room in the first place into his arms. "Ok, Mister Universe-hopper, but first, you need to drink and eat something." She went over to where she had set down the tray, when he had first met her. She studied the baked goods on it. "They‘re a little cold now", she said, "but obviously still good. Do you want me to pop down and warm them up again?" Damian shook his head, and gratefully accepted the plain brioche she handed him. He also opened the bottle, which had been sealed to his relief, and took a few gulps.

Marinette had so far proven herself to not be harmful, but he still did not want to risk anything. After all, it was so much easier to tamper with drinks than with food. That was why he had yet to touch the glass she had given him beforehand. 

While he was nibbling on his brioche, Marinette went over to a little pile on the floor he had not noticed previously, and brought it to the desk. The pile turned out to be the folded pieces of his uniform he was missing. Atop the pile lay his mask and his comm piece. He hadn‘t even noticed that his captor hadn‘t taken it off his person. It hadn‘t been in his ear while he was tied to the chair, but apparently, the man hadn‘t taken it away entirely. _Strange_. He decided to think about that later.

She set the pile onto the floor next to his chair, and settled herself onto the chaise longue, which she drew closer towards him. 

"So, tell me what happened", she demanded.

Damian nodded, and folded his hands into his lap. He did not want to compromise his identity any further, but he didn‘t think that she would believe that a simple civilian would be sent to another universe. Even Brown wouldn‘t be that gullible, and he decided for now not to treat Marinette like an idiot, despite slightly wanting to. She was his only ally in this universe right now, and he did not want to alienate her by underestimating her intelligence. He wasn‘t like Drake or Grayson, who could seemingly talk themselves out of any situation, he was much better suited for spying. And fighting, of course. 

Outside of his missions, he had proven himself to be painfully blunt. He wished now that he had taken more time to learn how to seem less like an assassin, and more like a defenceless child. He couldn‘t just tell her the complete story, but he would probably have to explain that he was some kind of vigilante. 

He cursed himself for having his first response be in English, and also for revealing that he had been sent here against his will. Thinking back to their conversation, he had also revealed that he had a team. _Dammit_. It seemed he would have to explain more than he initially hoped. 

"As I already told you, my name is Damian Wayne. In my universe, there are certain people who act as heroes. I myself would…also count myself amongst them. You see me right now in my costume, so I see no sense in denying that I am, indeed, one of them."

"Haha, yeah, I was wondering what was up with your costume. So it wasn‘t just cosplay? I‘m sorry I took your mask off. It was probably to protect your identity, right?"

Damian nodded. "Yes, but I am a little surprised you managed to get it off in the first place. Most people would not expect the mechanisms to take it off, and it is actually designed to zap anyone who tries to force it off who is not me or my team."

Marinette suddenly stiffened, and averted her eyes. "I, uh… have some experience with masks, particularly dominoes… My…uh…friend is into…cosplay?" She winced.

Damian narrowed his eyes. She was obviously lying, or omitting something. 

"So, uh, you were saying? You‘re a superhero, and you were sent here…?"

While Marinette was quite clearly trying to steer the conversation away from her, Damian allowed it, at least for now. She was not, after all, the one who had landed on the front steps of a stranger‘s house, and was also not the one claiming to be from another universe. If it was important, Damian would find out soon enough. 

"I was following a lead on an illegal drug trade together with some of my team, and it lead us to Paris. I live in the US, which is why my first response to your presence was in English."

"You‘re American?", Marinette interrupted him again. "Wow, by your accent, I wouldn‘t have guessed. Your French is really perfect, you know, and, I mean, Americans have kind of a bad reputation with languages? Ok, so do the French, and, well, my English is kind of bad, but wow, I‘m surprised. I kind of thought you were from somewhere in Maghreb? Now offence, obviously! It‘s just, you sound a little like Nino‘s mother? And you don‘t have an American accent…I‘m sorry! I shouldn‘t have said anything", she squeaked. 

Damian rolled his eyes. "Don‘t worry", he said, "you‘re not entirely wrong. I am originally from around Pakistan. Quite similar accents, you see." Marinette nodded, relieved. 

"Anyway", he said, "once in Paris, I was ambushed by an unknown man. I am not sure how he knew my team and I would be there, but he managed to capture me. The man then sent me to this universe. I believe the man did not intend to harm me, per se, but rather, for some reason, intended to get back at my…teammate."

And wasn‘t that just perfect. His captor had been hired, and had not even taken him because of something _he_ did, but instead, apparently, to teach _Batman_ a lesson. He seethed. While he admired his father and was honoured to be his Robin, he would like to be acknowledged for his own merit, _thank you very much_. He detested how often he was overlooked outside of Gotham in favour of his father. Even in Gotham, while less pronounced than anywhere else, he was still slightly less feared. He hated it.

"Anyhow, that is how I ended up in this universe. I am not sure why I landed here, and not the location I departed from, but that might be explained away by universal fluctuations. For now, I am stuck here. Either my teammates manage to find my location and get me, or I will have to find my own way back. In any case, I would prefer to stay in Paris for now, on the assumption that I am more easily found if I stay within a certain parameter from my original departure", he finished.

Marinette had her legs crossed, and her hand against her chin, in thought. "So what you‘re saying is, you would rather stay here, in my house", she finally said.

Damian hummed, not quite affirmative, but not really disagreeing either.

"I mean", she continued, "you have nowhere else to go, while you try find a way home, right? And your team might take a while." Her brow was furrowed, and she was staring intently at the floor, biting her lip. 

She uncrossed her legs and stood up. Damian watched her as she crossed the room to rummage in a lilac chest. When she took out a pair of sweats and a t-shirt, he looked at her, unimpressed. 

She grinned at him cheekily. "We can discuss this later", she said, "For now, you should probably take a shower and get out of you super-secret superhero costume, Mister Universe-hopper." She threw the clothes at him.

Damian scowled, but caught them and unfolded them. The clothes she had given him were not too bad. They were simple black sweats, probably used for sports in the colder winter months. Black ankle socks. The t-shirt was similarly inoffensive, a white graphic tee with _Je peux pas, j‘ai pas envie_ written on it. Damian frowned. Marinette laughed at his expression.

"It was a birthday gift, from my friend. I would never buy something like that", she explained. Then she helped him stand up, and carefully trek down through the trapdoor. She lead him down another flight of stairs, towards a bathroom. 

Marinette put the new clothes on a little table next to the shower, and laid a large, fluffy-looking towel on top of the small pile. Damian really wanted to touch it. 

She directed him to sit on the toilet lid. Then she said "You can take a shower now. Just put your costume on the floor, and I‘ll try to wash out some of the blood later. Be careful with your leg. The wound wasn‘t deep, and it wasn‘t bleeding that much, but I don‘t want the graze to get infected or anything. I couldn‘t find the normal big band-aids, so I used a bandage." She sounded apologetic. "What I‘m trying to say is, you can take the bandage off, and while you shower, I‘ll try find a band-aid that‘s big enough. You shouldn‘t jostle your ribs too much though, you have some bad bruising on your chest, and I don‘t know how bad your ribs actually are."

Damian was carefully peeling himself out of the rest of his costume when she said that. He looked up and shook his head. "They don‘t feel broken, if that‘s what you‘re asking."

She nodded, and showed him a stool she had put into the shower. "If you don‘t think you can stay standing for the shower, just sit down."

Then she nodded at him and left the room so he could have some privacy. 

Damian leaned back on the toilet and let out a loud sigh. He would shower now, and maybe they could discuss his situation a little more afterwards. But what was he going to do? 

Once he had completely undressed, he discarded his costume and limped over to the shower. The wound on his leg indeed wasn‘t deep, but someone had definitely stepped on his leg to make sure he couldn‘t walk easily. Nothing was broken, but it still hurt. Not the worst he had ever had, obviously, but still, inconvenient. 

He sat down on the stool, and let the water wash off the blood and grime of the past 24 hours. While he sat there, he contemplated his next actions. _He didn‘t want to have to deal with this._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> French  
>  _Je peux pas, j‘ai pas envie_ \- I can‘t. I don‘t want to (due to laziness)
> 
> I was looking for french shirts that had little messages on them, and I found this one. I just thought it was funny, and it is also the name of this chapter. I had also found another one that I thought would be funny for Damian, which was "Sorry I‘m late. Actually, I didn‘t want to come." So yeah.
> 
> Damian is fourteen in this fic. I haven‘t decided yet whether he has ever died in this AU or not, and whether it‘ll even be important. Anyway, if he seems a little ooc, it‘s because I believe he has mellowed out quite a bit due to living with the Batfamily for four years now. Also, his friendship with Jon has lead to him giving actual chances to people, and not immediately deciding they are inferior. Of course, he‘s still an arrogant brat, but it‘s less pronounced.
> 
> If there are any mistakes, please tell me. This fic is unbetaed.
> 
> I hope you liked this chapter, and as always, feedback is greatly appreciated!


	4. After Shower Thoughts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter! Yay :D

Once he was dressed and showered, Damian carefully ventured outside the bathroom. He hobbled over to the stairs, determined to go up to where he had seen a living room before. Taking each step individually and making sure not to aggravate any of his injuries, he made slow progress. At the top of the stair case, he opened the wooden door with milky glass panels. He looked around the room he found himself in. What seemed to indeed be the living room was empty. Marinette was either in her room, or still looking for proper band aids. Damian wouldn‘t bother. The wound wasn‘t bleeding anymore, and, while it was still fresh, a thin crust had already formed. 

He made his way over to one of the pale pink couch. There was a television on the opposite side of the room. Not entirely sure what to do at the moment, outside of waiting for Marinette to find him, Damian decided that now would be a good time to watch some of the local news. He found the remote and turned on the TV. 

While zapping through the channels, Damian also finally spotted the time. It was around three in the afternoon. He supposed it could be worse. If he had been awake for about an hour now, he had been unconscious in Marinette‘s room for probably 13 hours, as it had been nearing 1 am when he was transported to this universe. This estimation was, of course, based on whether time flowed here in the same way as it did in his home dimension. But perhaps not. After all, Marinette had said that she had found him coming back from a friend‘s house. And despite not knowing her age, Damian estimated her to be not older than perhaps 15, and no-one let a 15-year-old wander the streets of Paris at 1 am, especially not a girl. Universal fluctuations, just like how he hadn‘t originally departed from Palais-Bourbon, and yet, had landed here. He would have to ask Marinette what day it was. The TV didn‘t say. Was it still Sunday, as it was in his own universe now?

Damian stopped his musing when he finally found a channel of interest. It was BFM Paris. Damian did a double-take. He hadn‘t expected to find a channel he recognised, but here it was. 

Ever since they had come to Paris, Drake had insisted on having the TV running, just in case the news found anything before they did. BFM Paris had been the logical choice, as it was the local news channel, with news running the whole day, constantly updated. However, Damian could not get any work done with a TV blaring in the background, and thus had taken to avoid any room Drake had the television on in. Of course, he was staying away from Drake anyway, so it hadn‘t been a real problem.

But now, this channel was another parallel to his own universe. Damian supposed he had to be a little thankful to Drake, as, without him, he wouldn‘t have recogised it.

The thing that had first gotten his attention however, was not the name of the channel, but the subject they were currently reporting on. Something happening within Paris. _What was that…thing?_ Some… _being_ , that looked like a cross between a bus and a person, was wrecking havoc near the Gare du Nord. Of course, if the layout of Paris was even slightly similar to the layout in his own universe, that was on the other side of town. However, Damian didn‘t understand what that thing was, and didn‘t care how far away it was from him. He wanted to know _what the hell he was looking at on this screen_.

The voice-over was calling it an… _akuma?_ Damian turned up the sound to better listen.

"-akumatised person has been spotted near the Gare du Nord. If you have any way of avoiding that area, please do so. Police are blocking off access to the most affected intersection. The scheduled trains are not leaving the stations, so expect great delays today. The individual is calling himself Traffic Jammer, but at this point, no sight of the Parisian superheroes. Police is trying to hold him up until Lady Bug or Cat Noir arrive on scene, but it is slow progress. The individual seems completely unreasonable, but the police is hoping that clearing away all traffic might calm him down-"

"There you are!"

Damian jumped. Of course, it was barely a noticeable reaction to anyone who did not know him, but it was there. _How had he not heard anyone approaching?_ He turned to the stairs, and found Marinette standing there with a packet of band aids.

"Oh, you‘re watching TV." She walked over to him and gave him the band aids. Looking up at her face, Damian noticed that she seemed…nervous, somehow. She glanced at the television, blanched, then looked back to him. "Uhh listen", she started, "I have to go for a second. I have this, uhh, thing. I wish I could stay here and talk about your situation, but I completely forgot about the, uh, thing, but it‘s, uh, super important. Sorry! I‘ll be back in like, less than an hour."

She rushed up the stairs to her room, and came back ten seconds later, holding something. Then she stopped for a second, looked at him again, and said in a hurried tone "Please don‘t run off, please don‘t break anything (including yourself), and you can help yourself to anything you find in the fridge. Uhh, the computer should still be on, so if you want to research some more, no problem. Have fun, see you later!"

With those words, Marinette was gone.

Damian stared after her. She was leaving him alone in her house. Him, a near stranger, whom she had met less than an hour ago. He was thoroughly unimpressed. If she was always like this, he wondered how she was even still alive. Damian sincerely hoped her parents were better, maybe more suspicious and careful, than her. Of course, if they were, he probably wouldn‘t be here, instead most likely waking up in a hospital, or a police station. _Perhaps he was slightly glad after all, that they were apparently away at the moment._

He turned back to the TV. The reporter was saying something about a "Cat Noir" showing up, and Damian didn‘t know what he was talking about. Then he saw it. The camera zoomed in on one of the people trying to contact the so-called "Traffic Jammer", but that person was not like the rest. Damian‘s eyes widened. A superhero had joined the fray. 

On-screen, a blond boy _he couldn‘t be much older than Damian himself was_ in a black catsuit and a domino mask was jumping around the street. The camera didn‘t pick up on what he was saying, but it seemed like he was taunting the…villain? 

From what he could gather, Damian was currently watching a fight between one of the Parisian superheroes, which, apparently there were multiple, and thus quite beneficial to him, and a person who had been "akumatised". He still wasn‘t entirely sure what that entitled, but apparently, some kind of supervillain had the power to send out "akumas", who then transformed the individual into a minor villain themselves. 

Damian was intrigued. The superhero fighting against the villain reminded him a little of Grayson, with all the bounding around, and the apparent taunting he was doing. He was also quite obviously stalling for time. 

Just then, another superhero appeared on screen. The voice-over was calling her "Ladybug". She had black hair, and was wearing a red bodysuit with black spots. Just like her partner, she was sporting a domino, the only difference being the colour. He couldn‘t quite make out their faces, but Cat Noir’s body language was much surer now that his partner had arrived. The fight had only truly begun now. 

Damian watched the two superheroes go up against Traffic Jammer. They seemed to have some kind of enhancement, as they were running on walls, and jumping all around their opponent. Cat Noir was using some kind of staff, that expanded and even duplicated at moment‘s notice. Meanwhile, Ladybug was using… a yo-yo? He frowned. A yo-yo seemed like a strange weapon choice. 

He watched as they seemingly pacified the villain, and then Cat Noir destroyed the cap the bus-themed villain had been wearing with what seemed like an eroding superpower. Something small and dark escaped the destroyed cap, but was swiftly captured by Ladybug‘s yo-yo. The villain...de-transformed? A disoriented man and a bus appeared where the villain had once stood.

The voice-over was saying that the akuma had been "purified", and that the threat was vanquished. They continued with a montage of the broken infrastructure around the area, and filmed Ladybug as she repaired it with some kind of superpower of her own. Then they went on about the traffic situation and that the trains were supposed to start up soon again, hopefully catching up to the schedule. 

The whole thing had lasted less than twenty minutes.

Damian scowled. Figures, that the local superheroes would all be meta-humans. He would have to find out how to contact them about his situation, though.

He refocussed on the television, but they were only discussing the delays caused by the incident, and then started to talk about other things, unrelated to the villain and the superheroes. Damian changed channels. He was looking for a channel that might be discussing the events, and indeed, found one. 

TVi was talking about the villain, who was a bus driver, apparently angry about Parisian traffic, and who had decided he wanted to quit his job. Damian scoffed. The entire thing was just absolutely ridiculous. The reporter reminded the audience that akuma were drawn to negative emotions. It seemed like the attacks happened about once every week, and the supervillain behind the akumatisations was referred to as the terrorist Hawk Moth. 

Damian was suddenly uncomfortably reminded of the Rogues in Gotham. Hawk Moth? The name would fit right in between Black Mask, or Poison Ivy, or any of the other criminally insane villains that regularly terrorised the city. And the superheroes were animal themed, just like…at home. 

Suddenly uncomfortable, Damian turned off the news. He would just have to look up the two heroes on his own. Were they alone, or was there more? Did they have mentors? They probably did, with how young they were. In his universe, most young vigilantes had some kind of adult at least loosely supervising them. He wondered whether or not they were affiliated with a league of superheroes. Did this universe have something like the Watchtower? 

Resolved to find answers, Damian stood up and carefully made his way over to the stairs leading to Marinette‘s room. 

Just then, the front door opened, and Marinette stumbled in. Damian froze. So did Marinette. They stared at each other for a second, before Marinette relaxed and laughed. "You nearly gave a heart attack!", she said. Damian looked at her, unimpressed. She elaborated. "I wasn‘t expecting you to stand there. I actually nearly forgot that you were going to be here!" She laughed again. Damian nodded slowly, before saying "You wanted to talk." It wasn‘t a question. Marinette took on a more serious expression as well. 

"Uh, yes", she said, "here or in my room?"

"Here", Damian decided. He made his way back to the pink corner couch, and sat down. Marinette followed suite. 

"Sooo…", she started, "You‘re stuck in this alternate universe, right?" "For now", Damian said. She pursed her lips in thought. "Yeah, for now. So, uh, you‘ll need to stay somewhere." "I also need to contact the local superheroes. Maybe they have somewhere I can stay."

"No!" she said quickly. Damian raised a brow. Marinette sputtered. "Uh, I mean, you mean Ladybug and Cat Noir, right? Haha, I mean, they have secret identities and all that, so it‘s difficult to contact them outside of akuma attacks, you know? Do you know about the akuma attacks? I mean, one was just televised, right? So you probably watched the whole thing on TV, haha, wish I could have seen it! But I had this thing- So anyway, you saw the two, right? Haha." She laughed nervously and averted her eyes. "And uh, no one knows who they are or where they live, I‘m not really sure they would make an exception for you, because, well, uh…"

"Tt- are you trying to say that they do not have a base of operation."

"Yes, exactly!" The second Damian had uttered his assumption, Marinette clung onto it like an excuse. Damian found it a little suspicious, but again, if it was important, he would find out sooner or later. Probably sooner. He was a detective, after all. 

Marinette was nodding to herself. "Yes, our Parisian superheroes don‘t have a base. Otherwise, they would always arrive together, right? So that‘s why you can‘t stay with them. Sorry!" She didn‘t sound sorry. Then she took on a more thoughtful air again. "I suppose the best course of action would be to have you stay with me. After all, I know your identity-"Damian made an indignant sound at this "-and I don‘t think you want to tell any more people about your other-worldliness."

He couldn‘t dispute that. However…"If I stay with you, will this not be suspicious to your parents once they return? I am a strange boy staying at their house, with their teenage daughter. You said that you had no guest room? Where do you want me to stay? The _living room?_"

The longer he went on about all the problems that arose with the implication of a stranger staying with a teenage girl, the redder Marinette‘s face became. Damian wanted to laugh at her embarrassment, but this was serious. He could mock her for her naïve innocence later, for now, they had to find a solution. Only once Marinette hid her face in her hands did he stop. It was important she understood the graveness of the situation, but if she was already hiding at these relatively tame implications, she probably got how important conveying the correct image would be. 

Damian sighed, and waited for Marinette to calm down. If the need arose, this would be the perfect information to hold over her, but right now, it was simply annoying. "Tt- get it together, Ma-" he stopped. Was he really going to call her by her first name? It was absurd. He had been calling her by her first name since their first meeting, but he had been panicking, and now… he was calm. Damian noticed that he had subconsciously been referring to her in his head as "Marinette" as well, and now, he wasn‘t sure whether or not she had even _told him_ her last name. Usually, he disliked calling anyone by their first name, even his…family…though he was getting better, he supposed. Grayson- _Richard_ was constantly telling him how much he had improved in the last four years. He decided that he would keep calling her by her first name, as he could not remember her giving him any other name. Also, right now, it was simply more convenient. 

_Just like Jon_ , something in him whispered. _Was it just more convenient with him, too?_ Damian squashed the thought. _Later_. 

Noticing his sudden silence, Marinette had stopped hiding in her palms, and was instead staring at him uncomfortably. 

"Okay", she said, "we‘ll need some sort of cover story for as to why you suddenly live here. And, uh, I don‘t think you should sleep in the living room." She hesitated, then said "I think you should stay in my room. My bed is on the loft, and if you sleep on the lower floor, it should be fine. We still have a mattress for whenever someone sleeps over, so it shouldn‘t be a problem, I think. Uhh, I mean, if that‘s alright with you", she hurried to finish. 

Damian thought about it. On one hand, he had been hoping for her to extend this invitation, on the other… it would be annoying, making a cover story, especially considering he didn‘t have his usual tools at hand to construct a new identity. At the same time, he was a master of infiltration. While he couldn‘t talk himself out of anything, but talking yourself _in_ to anything, now that, that was a skill he definitely possessed. 

If he could pose as a teacher, bus driver, and even mimic _Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne_ , he could roll with any cover story. His problem was lying on the spot, and then sticking to that lie, which was why he had confided in Marinette in the first place. If he had the time to carefully craft a story, he could get in character. Yes, maybe this wasn‘t such a bad idea. 

_I should stop jinxing it_ , he thought. To Marinette, he said "That might work. A cover story, that is. I don‘t particularly care _where_ in this house you want me to stay, but I won‘t oppose to staying in your room." He disliked it, but it would be better than the living room. Obviously, he would prefer his own space, as he did in his own universe, but as long as he could sleep on the lower floor, and then not stay in her room the whole day, it should be fine. He doubted Marinette particularly _wanted_ to share a room, but she would not have brought it up if she couldn‘t live with it. 

And thus it was decided. He would stay at her house, for now. 

A weight lifted off of his shoulders, a weight he hadn‘t even been aware of. With his lodgings secure, it was time to work on the cover story. 

"It will have to be good enough that even your parents won‘t see a problem", Damian warned Marinette. She just nodded. Then she stood up and went to the stairs. "One second", she said. When she came back, she was carrying a note-book and a pen. _For brainstorming_ was the clarification when she laid it all out on the couch between them. She opened the note-book on a blank page, and, in large letters, wrote "Damian in Paris/at the Bakery". Then she made a bullet point, but wrote nothing behind it yet. 

"Well then", she said, looking at him expectantly, "any ideas?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> French  
> Palais-Bourbon - the name of the 7th arrondissement  
> Gare du Nord - Station of the North (one of six Parisian train stations)
> 
> BFM Paris is a real news channel for 24 hour local news. The reason I included it instead of just going with the in-universe TVi immediately is because I was dumb, forgot to check for the in-universe TV channels before researching the French broadcasting system for at least an hour, and then didn‘t want all my work to be wasted. So yeah, this fic now has TVi _and_ BFM Paris (which, by the way, stands for "Business FM"), but I think it‘s fine. After all, BFM Paris is not the only news channel they have for that region, so it makes sense for them both to exist side-by-side. 
> 
> So while researching for this chapter, I found the address of Marinette‘s house (why didn‘t I look for that sooner?? Wth, past-me?), which in this fic, I located in the 7th arrondissement, where the Eiffel Tower is. However, apparently her canon address is in the 21st arrondissement. The 21st doesn‘t exist, so it should be fine etc, fictional address and all that, BUT the suburbs of Paris are often referred to as the 21st arrondissement! Thus, her canon address MAKES NO SENSE TO ME! If her address was really on the outskirts of Paris, then why would she go to school in the centre?? Also, canonically she lives just across from the school, which is next to the Eiffel Tower, which is in the 7th arrondissement. Canon, please explain?? I mean, I get giving her a fictional address and all, but come on. If they wanted to locate her in the fictional 21st arrondissement, they shouldn‘t have put the school next to such a known landmark.
> 
> As always, all comments and feedback are appreciated! Thank you for reading ^-^


	5. How not to be a foreign student.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Well then", she said, looking at him expectantly, "any ideas?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter so quick?? O.o

Even though Damian had anticipated this question, he had to really think hard for any ideas. A cover story… He hated this uncertainty right now. Marinette wasn‘t coming up with anything either, and thus they were currently completely stuck. 

The two sat in silence for a couple of minutes. 

"I have it!" Marinette screamed suddenly. Damian nearly fell off the couch. Frantically, he turned towards her. "Sorry", she said sheepishly. 

Then she beckoned him closer. "You said you were- what, 14 years old, right?" Damian nodded slowly, and Marinette grinned. "I‘m 15! Since we‘re so close in age, we could be in a class together!" He didn‘t like where she was going with this, if she was implying what he thought she was…"We could say you were some kind of exchange student!" Ah yes indeed, he hated it. 

He scowled at her. "I really want to refuse this outlandish idea." "But Damian, we‘d be able to explain everything with that!" Marinette pleaded, and upon looking at her puppy eyes, Damian sighed. "You do have…a point", he conceded. "It is", the words tasted foul, "a good idea."

Marinette squealed, and immediately wrote down _foreign student??_ into her note-book. Somehow, the fact that she was writing was in bright pink instead of the normal black or blue just made him more frustrated. He took a deep breath to calm himself. It wouldn‘t do to explode into his only ally‘s face. He clenched and un-clenched his fists, wishing he could pace without his ribs complaining and his muscles aching. _Great. This was all just perfect._

" Tt", he said, "now we have to go through the details." Already writing furiously in the note-book, Marinette gave a nod. "Yes, but we also need to convince Mr Damocles that you are indeed meant to come to my school." She looked up at him. "Mr Damocles is the principal of Collège Françoise Dupont" she said. Then, she added "That‘s my school."

Damian nodded. "Leave that to me. I might not be as good as Oracle, but I do know how to hack. Give me access to your computer and I can make it look like I was always supposed to arrive…what day is it?" "Sunday, why?"

Brow furrowed, Damian hummed an acknowledgement. "Either", he started, "we can have me join this coming week, or- when do your parents come home?" "Oh." Understanding dawned on Marinette‘s face. "I mean, they‘re closing the bakery until Thursday- they‘re coming home around Wednesday afternoon." Damian nodded. "Then we should probably get me to join as soon as possible. We could say that something with my housing didn‘t work out-" "-and you need a place to stay for your time abroad!" Marinette finished his sentence.

"Yes, and ideally, you could probably say that you decided on the spot to let me stay with you." He glared at her and she scratched at her neck, looking slightly abashed "Such impulsiveness is not a one-time thing, I believe." With a sheepish chuckle, Marinette shook her head. "No no, I‘m actually kind of known for these kinds of rash decisions, hehe…"

Damian just raised one eyebrow at her. It was a trick he had learned from Pennyworth, and it paid out, as immediately Marinette cleared her throat and got back on track. "Ok, so, we enrol you into my school, if possible starting tomorrow, and then, uh, maybe you could bring up some housing problem over the course of the day? And then I could act as my usual impulsive self."

"We need arguments, in case anyone remarks about your lack of guest rooms in your house." Marinette frowned, and said "Why would anyone think to say that?" Damian shrugged, answering "Humour me."

"Ok, so…" Marinette thought about it, chewing on the edge of her pen while Damian watched her impatiently. "I live right next to the school, my parents are usually okay with my weird spur-of-the-moment decisions, and, well, I‘m known for not being able to say no." She sighed. "You would not BELIEVE how many children I‘ve babysat because of that." "I can imagine."

Marinette wrote down a few more things into her note-book, then told him that that should do for the moment, and asked him to "work his computer magic." Damian scowled, but did as she said. Careful to not hurt himself, he climbed up the stairs to Marinette‘s room, and waited by the computer for her to follow. She did, slipping through the trapdoor only seconds after him. She logged back onto her computer, then left him to work while she went up to her bed to do some homework she had previously neglected. 

Even after she had left, Damian didn‘t stop scowling. He disliked that Marinette had just left him with this half-baked plan, as he, like every member of the "Bat-family", preferred to have backup plans to his backup plans, but he wasn‘t surprised. Marinette seemed to him like one of those "We‘ll see what happens and then go from there" types of people, and for now, he would have to come to terms with that. 

He set on to hack the school that was apparently just across the street from his new temporary address, and registered himself as a foreign student, coming to France due to…he wasn‘t sure yet. The experience? That would suffice for now. If it turned out that he was stuck in this universe for longer than expected, _which he sincerely hoped he was not_ , he would be able to spin some kind of story. But not right now. 

From there, he started to build himself an identity. Vague, but present enough as to not be suspicious. He had to start making himself a paper trail, and it took a while. Fake passport, fake visa…for a second, he thought about simply registering as a French transfer student, but that ran the risk of being quickly debunked. A single call to the fake school would send all of his hard work out of the window. 

Instead, he made himself home-schooled in the US, and prepared an identity for his alleged "parents", when a thought struck him. Would he also have to construct an identity for the housing that didn‘t work out? If he had to create to many of these fake people, at some point, someone would take notice. No, he would somehow have to work around that. 

For now, he decided that he didn‘t need this alleged housing. After all, he could just claim that it was private, some kind of fall-out between his parents and his supposed caretaker… He shelved the thought for later. For now, he was making sure he existed in the French system as an American citizen. He did not, however, apply for some kind of physical ID. As he was 14, he was not expected to carry an ID at all times in France. And he would only need a passport if he had to legally leave… actually, only if he had to legally leave the EU. _Wow, the Schengen area really was convenient._

So for now, only a digital version of his fake passport existed. He had aged himself as 14, after all, despite this might bringing problems, with him wanting to enter a ninth grade, not an eighth grade. However, the problem was quickly solved when he completed a little placement test and uploaded it into the school‘s new file on him. His voice still hadn‘t cracked completely, to his utter mortification, but that was easier to explain as a 14-year-old than any older teenager. _He was also STILL missing his damn growth spurt._

If it ever turned out that he might need an ID after all, he could just apply for a lost passport at the American embassy in Paris. That was not an issue.

What WAS an issue, however, was how he could explain the lack of any personal possessions to Marinette‘s parents. Then, an idea struck him. He could explain it the same way he could explain away the lack of a physical passport- they had been stolen upon his arrival! …or something like that.

Again, he shelved that thought for later. 

By the time he was done with all the preliminary hacking to establish his presence, it was dark outside. At some point, Marinette had turned on the light, and a soft glow of a ceiling lamp filled the room, in harsh contrast to the brightness of the computer screen. 

Damian stretched in his chair, and kicked himself away from the desk. However, he immediately regretted that action when pain raced up his thigh. Cursing, he cringed at his stupidity, and hoped that having a good night‘s rest would heal most of his injuries, as none of them were in any way truly serious. Except for maybe his concussion, but that too, he was planning on sleeping off. If Grayson knew of this, he would chew him out quite badly, but what he did not know could not hurt him. It wasn‘t the first time Damian ignored a concussion. He‘d survive. Probably.

"Everything okay down there?" Marinette called when she heard his cursing. Damian looked up to see that she had popped her head out of the loft. "Are you done with your hacking?" she asked. At Damian‘s begrudging nod, Marinette swiftly climbed down the stairs to meet him. "Well then, let‘s go down and eat!"

She made to grab his hand, but Damian bat her away. "Don‘t just touch me", he hissed. Marinette looked at him confusedly, but let him get out of the chair by himself, and only held open the trapdoor for him. Damian acknowledged it, but made no effort to thank her. He didn‘t know the exact reason, but his mood had gradually worsened over the course of the evening.

Once in the kitchen, he sat down on one of the high stools around the island, while Marinette got some cheese from the fridge, and one of the baguettes from the large bread basket hanging from the counter. Noticing his foul mood, she kept silent, a feat he honestly hadn‘t thought her capable of, what with her excitable personality. Once she had gotten two knives out for them, she sat up on the stool across from him, broke off a piece of the baguette, and started eating. The silence was getting awkward, so finally, Damian sighed. Marinette looked up at him, startled.

"Listen", he found himself saying, "I‘m not a particularly nice person." Not sure where he was going with this, Marinette just nodded hesitantly. "I mean, I guess you‘re not the most talkative? But, I get that! I‘m often told that I talk for two. I, uh, I‘m sorry if I annoyed you?" At this, Damian shook his head, sighing again. 

"No, it‘s fine. Just, don‘t take it personally when I am…" his cheeks felt hot while he searched for the correct word to use "…a bitch."

Marinette snorted and Damian groaned, throwing his head back so as to not have to meet her amused gaze. 

After a moment, he sat back up straight. "Look, we need to talk about tomorrow", he said. He then told her about his new identity and the cover he had worked out so far.

"My name is Damian Wayne, I am 14 years old, homeschooled my entire life. I‘m from America, and have always wanted to go to France, so my parents sent me here to spend about half a year in Paris. I was supposed to stay with a family friend, but there was a falling out between them and my parents. I was allowed to stay with them over the week-end, as I arrived on Saturday, but they told me that I had to find a new accommodation for my stay here in Paris, or I‘d have to fly back on Wednesday, as that is the earliest possible flight we could find back to the US. My parents don‘t believe I can do it, and are expecting me back, unless I can find somewhere. This stay here in Paris is expensive- they won‘t give me money for a flat, and I am too young to live alone anyway. They also don‘t want to pay a host family, only perhaps for the food expense. If I can find someone to live with who will take me without the money, I can stay in France. That someone will have to be you. I‘m sorry I won‘t be able to pay you back very well, as I kind of unexpectedly landed here-"

"Nonsense!" Marinette interrupted him. "You don‘t have any money, how are you even planning to come up with the theoretical lunch money?" "I was planning on using some money from the bank, they won‘t notice-" "Stealing is wrong!" Marinette looked at him unhappily. "I‘m pretty sure my parents will be okay with you staying with us without it. I mean, we have the best bakery in Paris! We‘re not exactly hurting for money." She frowned. "If you really want to contribute something, make the money in a legal way. Like babysitting, for example!"

Damian stared at her. "Babysitting." he echoed. Marinette shrugged. 

He rubbed his temple. "Okay fine, no stealing. I still need to buy clothing tomorrow though. It would be suspicious if I just arrived here with nothing. How do you want me to pay for that?" "Oh, I‘ve got you covered." She took a bite from her baguette, and proceeded to explain. "I think I told you about wanting to become a fashion designer when you first woke up, right?" Damian nodded, as a vague memory came to mind of her wanting to use some elements of his Robin costume. 

"Well, you see, because of this, my parents give me quite a lot of pocket money, for fabrics and such. I’ve also saved up quite a lot of money from babysitting and actually designing! So tomorrow, after school, we could get you some necessities. Toothbrush and stuff like that, I‘m sure we have spares I can give you. You‘d only need a little clothing. Tonight, you can use what you‘re wearing right now, and I‘m sure I‘ll find a proper shirt and trousers for you to wear tomorrow _somewhere_. I once designed some, after all. The prototype is probably somewhere in the basement…? As for the rest, we can just say your luggage got lost on the way to France. Happens all the time."

She was quiet for a moment, then she said "Actually, we can use that as another reason why your parents want you to come home. Maybe they actually don‘t trust you to live in Paris for a few months, and now that the housing didn‘t work out AND your luggage disappeared, they don‘t believe you can make it."

Damian sceptically frowned at her. "Why would we want that?"

At this, Marinette blushed for some reason. "Well", she started, "in our class, we have this one boy, his name is Adrien-" _Ah, the maybe-boyfriend_ , Damian thought. "-and well, his father is super overprotective, and lets him do nearly nothing. He even wanted to stop him from going to school! So maybe if we can make it look like your ‘parents’ are kind of like that…" "…your parents and classmates will be sympathetic to me and help me ‘not have to go home’, right?" Marinette nodded, but looked a little uncomfortable. Damian waited for her to voice her thoughts. Marinette took the cue and said "I don‘t like manipulating them like that."

Damian facepalmed.

"No no, I get why it‘s necessary, we don‘t want you to have to find another accommodation, and you need to stay in Paris and all that, _I get that_ , but I still don‘t like to be so blatantly lying to the people I love!"

Damian sighed, but couldn‘t just ignore her concerns. _Empathy, Damian, she is a civilian who usually has not much to hide._ "Okay", he settled on, "if it makes you feel better, I can tell you that we‘re not actually really making it up. The lost luggage, sure. That‘s a lie. But in my own universe, my mother and grandfather actually kept me in a pretty sheltered" _-hidden-_ "life, and didn‘t let me go to school, didn‘t let me have friends. Sound like your classmate?" He of course left out that he was raised and taught by literal assassins. "I didn‘t even meet my father until I was ten!" Marinette looked a little calmer, but not wholly convinced. "Look, think of it as a necessity to help a superhero find a way back home. You want to help people, right? This cover story isn‘t going to harm anyone. And it‘s exactly that: a cover story. So not even really a lie. I _did_ get stranded in Paris without anything and have to find an accommodation by Wednesday, just not the way they think. The important parts are all true."

Once he finished his little speech, Marinette looked much happier and much more comfortable. "Okay, I can work with that", she said. Damian just nodded.

"Good. Now, as I was saying-" Marinette suddenly gave a shout, and Damian fixed her with an annoyed look. "What is it now?!" he demanded. "Sorry, I just", she gestured wildly with her hands, crumbs flying through the air as she swallowed the bite she had just taken, "I just noticed that you would have at least a carry-on bag, even if your main luggage got lost! And I remembered that I made this little prototype, and you could use that, it‘s a backpack, so also works for school tomorrow!" She excitedly started to ramble about the backpack she had made, and then said "You also need a phone!"

Slowly, Damian inclined his head, and immediately, Marinette said "You could use my old one! I got a new phone last year, but the old one should still work just fine! I‘ll get out all the stuff we‘ll need for tomorrow after dinner, this is going to be great! It‘s like you’re a spy, and you‘re infiltrating my school to find some kind of villain, and I get to help you!" She squealed. "I‘m so excited!"

She must have noticed his bewildered face, because a few moments later, she stilled, sat back down, and gave him a sheepish smile.

Damian didn‘t think that they would manage to discuss any more important things during dinner due to her excitement, and told her so, adding that she would be able to gather all the things he would need for tomorrow once they were finished eating. Then, they would be able to talk more. Marinette agreed, and hastily shoved some cheese into her mouth.

When they were done and had cleared the island of crumbs, Marinette told Damian that he should wait in her room while she searched the basement. He wanted to protest, but had to agree that he shouldn‘t carry anything with his bruised ribs. So, he made his way back up to Marinette‘s room and sat down waiting in her chaise longue. 

He decided to bide his time by thinking about all they had to do tomorrow, and also all the things he had to find out about Ladybug and Cat Noir. 

Currently, he knew that they were superheroes in Paris, they had no base of operation, and their identities were a secret. He had to find out whether there were more, though he was starting to doubt it, and how best to contact them about his situation. He also had to think about how to address his Robin identity. Should he try to contact them in his civilian attire, or immediately as Robin? There were so many things to do. 

He sincerely hoped that his father and the rest of the team were able to find him soon. It would probably be quite a hassle to get home from this side. 

He felt a growing pit of dread in his stomach. _Were they even looking for him?_ He immediately banished the thought. Of course they were! He had proven himself as a valued member of the team, as a member of the family. They wouldn‘t leave him here to rot, if they knew where he was. They would find him. Or he would find a way back while they were still searching. There was no other option.

Having found strength at the prospect of getting home, Damian sat up straighter, prepared for whatever he had to do in his universe. He had already managed to find an ally, albeit her being a civilian, and he was determined to make the most of his situation.

With this in mind, Damian waited for Marinette. It would all work out.

…Hopefully.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No French words in this one, I think!
> 
> The only think I might need to clarify is the Schengen area: In Europe, many countries signed a treaty called the _Schengen agreement_. It abolished most border controls between the member-countries, most of which are EU members. EU is the European Union. 
> 
> Members of the EU are countries like Germany, France, Ireland, Poland, Italy, and many more. The Schengen area encompasses all EU countries except for Ireland and, before Brexit, also the UK. Instead, countries such as Norway, Swiss and Iceland are part of it.
> 
> I actually wanted Damian to already come to school in this chapter, but I needed some exposition instead, haha. Just a disclaimer though, I have no clue how hacking works. But what do you guys think of his cover story? 
> 
> Also, would anyone be interested in a Marinette pov? Either as a little extra ficlet, or as a chapter in Bird Stranded.
> 
> As always, comments make my day, and if you find any mistakes or just want to give feedback, it‘s always appreciated. The work is unbetaed. Thank you for reading :)


	6. Intermission: Keeping up with the Bats

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When their resident demon-brat dissappears, certain measures will have to be taken.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of a short chapter, sorry ^-^“

_This was supposed to have been a normal enough mission_ , Red Robin thought as he went through all security footage he could get his hands on. But it wasn‘t. At least, not since resident demon-spawn _Robin_ had been kidnapped and _vanished_ by some wannabe thug. 

It had been going quite well, with Batman and Robin staking out a few possible locations for a meeting between the French and American drug traders, when Robin suddenly reported suspicious activity in a nearby abandoned building. Next thing he knew, Robin had activated his distress signal, become completely unreachable over the comms, and Batman was losing his mind. It would have been hilarious, if not for the seriousness of the situation. 

They had found the apartment building in question, and Tim had suited up to assist his mentor. 

Once there, they had been careful to locate where Robin might be held, and then approached silently. Batman had taken the door, and Red Robin the window. He could see the captor and Robin, both turned away from him. The man was holding some kind of device, and looked to be threatening him with it. And Robin… _Robin was shying away._

Now, his little brother was many things, but he was definitely not a coward. He got angry in situations like this, not _scared_. None of them ever really became obviously afraid, they were trained not to panic, and to the untrained eye, Robin looked perfectly composed, but Tim had learnt all of his tells. Tied to the chair, completely immobile, Robin was clenching his hands. It was subtle, but it really served to convey to Tim how important it was they got him away _right then._

Robin had been talking to his captor, as Tim could hear a low murmur, but couldn‘t discern any particular words. All he could find was that the man was quite obviously some kind of lunatic, and that Robin hadn‘t managed to free himself yet, thus, his captor was, sadly, a rather _capable_ lunatic. 

_" Now." _

Red Robin had nodded out of habit to no-one in particular when the command fizzled through the comms, and threw himself through the window. Robin startled in his chair, started to say something, but was promptly interrupted by his captor, who pressed the button on his device, and then he was…

_…gone._

In a flash of blinding light, Robin had disappeared. Batman, who had just barged in through the door, roared, and threw himself onto the man. The man went down laughing. It wasn‘t a Joker-y laugh, just…amused. Nearly pleasant. And it gave Red Robin the creeps. 

However, he had more pressing matters to address than an uncomfortable laugh. Notably, _the disappearance of his little brother._

He had stumbled though, when he first heard it, but quickly caught himself again, and went to assist Batman in detaining the criminal. They had sedated him, when he wouldn‘t answer them about Robin‘s whereabouts. He had simply kept repeating that he was gone, and that they would have quite a lot of trouble finding him… They had to turn him over to the French officials, but made sure to have access to him whenever they needed to question him. For now, they packed up the elaborate set-up the man had installed on the desk of the abandoned flat, and went home. They would need better tech to find wherever Damian had went.

And his little brother wasn‘t dead. Of that, Tim was sure. The criminal‘s wording had been off, and he hadn‘t seemed like one of those thugs who used euphemisms for death. He had also implicitly stated that they would "have trouble finding him", which of course implied that there _was_ something to find.

So here he was, two days later, back in the Batcave, and scouring for all available (and, well, less available) footage of the events that had transpired in Paris. Here, they were trying to find out who the man was, where he had come from, and what his tech had done. And of course, where he gotten the aforementioned tech _from_.

In another part of the Batcave, that was precisely what Bruce was doing, with the help of Alfred. Tim himself was working together with Barbara. 

When Bruce and himself had returned from Paris, they had immediately called all members of the "Batfamily" together, and dedicated all resources to finding Damian. Bruce and Dick were frantic, and it shone through in their vigilante activity. Batman and Nightwing were shaken, with their youngest bird gone. Signal and Spoiler weren‘t much better, the only seemingly unaffected being Black Bat and Red Hood, but Tim knew better. Jason and Cass were just as shaken, but it didn‘t show as much. They were just better at hiding it. He himself had resigned himself to working the comms with Oracle while searching for clues about Damian‘s whereabouts, and wasn‘t currently patrolling as Red Robin. He knew that most of his family wished they could also dedicate all of their time to finding Damian, but Gotham needed its vigilantes.

Tim was devoting any intervals between his daily life at his job for Wayne Enterprises and manning the comms for his family to the search. The original reason for their presence in Paris had been all but forgotten, as they had ruled that the information Tim had received might have actually been a plant to get to Batman all along.

Tim was particularly unhappy about that little fact, and the idea, that maybe it was _his_ fault that Damian had been captured, left him queazy and quite nauseous. He might not like the brat particularly much, but he was still his brother. Thus, he also had to look into his source, and that was going to be an absolute _bitch_. He was already very picky with his informants and wherever else he drew information from, so now that one of those had been discovered and therefore compromised, he would have to find out which source that was. He would also have to work out by whom and how it was leaked to their enemies, and what other sources might be compromised. Then, he would potentially have to look for a few new informants wherever there was now a hole in his network.

_Yay. More work to be done._

For now, he endeavoured to research the perpetrator himself. Tim was just looking at a security camera a block away from the incident, when he spotted something in the footage. A tiny speck, which had to be an insect or something, was flying through the image at a two-minute interval. 

The footage had been tampered with.

Tim stared at the screen, and immediately informed Barbara of his find. Oracle would be able to trace where the tampering had come from, and might even find the original footage. Together, they‘d be able to use it as a lead to who was behind Robin‘s disappearance, which, in turn, might direct them towards his current location. This…this was progress. Slowly but surely, they were approaching their little brother’s rescue. They were detectives, and they would always find the missing person.

_Damian, we will find you. Just hang in there until we get to you._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to clary_ashryver for this idea! I completely forgot about adding any sort of Bat pov chapter, but here it is. Next regular chapter should out soon as well, I already have it all planned out. After that, maybe a Marinette pov?
> 
> As always, I‘d love to hear your thoughts! Thank you all for reading ^-^


	7. Plan RCM

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Plan Rester Chez Marinette, or RCM, Step 1.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there, after the longer wait, here is an extra-long chapter for you! Hope you enjoy :)

The next day, Damian and Marinette had to get up a little earlier to hash out the details again over breakfast. Damian had slept on a mattress that Marinette had brought up, together with a small brown backpack, a pair of dark blue jeans and a light blue shirt. The jeans had a few white accents on the pockets and the backpack had, ironically enough, a red robin on its front pocket. The shirt, however, was very simply a light blue shirt. Damian appreciated it, as he had a distaste for anything that was not training gear or a suit. So despite the jeans, it was tolerable. Damian now put on those clothes and was regarding the bird on the backpack with slight distain. Marinette laughed at his expression.

"What‘s wrong?"

Damian glanced at her, then settled his eyes back on the bird. "I don‘t see a reason not to tell you, as you already know that I‘m a…superhero", he finally said. "My name as a hero is ‘Robin’, which, in English, means _rouge-gorge_. The full name of the bird, however, would be ‘Red Robin’, and that is the name of one of my… my associates. He goes by Red Robin, I go by Robin, and I haven‘t decided yet how exactly I feel about wearing a Red Robin on my bag."

At his explanation, Marinette‘s grin gradually widened, and when he was done, she snorted. Damian let it slide, but still gave her the side-eye. No matter how much he had to endure it in his own universe, he hated being ridiculed and laughed at. It was simply beneath him. 

"Tonight, please, please tell me about your superhero team! I really want to know about your universe!" She fixed him with one of her puppy looks, and he rolled his eyes. "And, you know, I think it‘s fine, since it‘s technically your name as well", she continued. Damian agreed with a sigh, and shouldered the bag on the way to the kitchen.

His body didn‘t ache as much anymore, and only his ribs and thigh still gave him small problems. He also still had a slight headache, but that was to be expected after a concussion. Damian was simply glad that he could wear his own backpack, and go down the stairs with barely any trouble. 

He put down the bag next to the counter and sat on one of the stools, while Marinette went and grabbed a few pain au chocolat and croissants from the bakery‘s storage room. They had been made by her parents on Friday, before they left for China, and while they were going to be a little stale now, warmed up in a real oven, they would still taste quite good. In addition, Damian had eaten his fair share of less savoury things over his many years as an assassin, and even as a vigilante, a stale pain au chocolat was not the worst he had seen.

While they were eating, they went over the plan for the day again.

"Ok, so you‘ll go before me, and search for Mr Damocles‘ office, where he will (hopefully) be surprised to see you, but after checking his files, he‘ll be embarrassed he ‘forgot’ about you, before getting Miss Bustier to take you to her class. Right?" Damian just nodded mid-bite. "Good, okay. So then you‘ll be our new student, and then it‘ll be a normal school day, and during lunch, I‘ll befriend you, and in the afternoon, you mention your home situation, and then I‘ll be all like ‘you can stay with me!’, because we‘ve hit it off immediately at lunch! Right?" Again, Damian nodded. "Great! And then no-one will ask questions and you‘ll live with me until you finally find your way back home to your family and you‘ll get a girlfriend, marry, have two kids, and name one of them Marinette after me!" She squealed and Damian frowned at her. "I have absolutely no intention of marrying any time soon", he said. Marinette giggled, embarrassed, and went back to slathering absolutely ungodly amounts of apricot jam onto her croissant. Damian watched on in disgust. _Grayson and her would get along swimmingly, they both have an absolutely disgusting sweet tooth._ He shuddered at the thought. Who knows what abominable creations those two would be able to come up with together. 

He continued munching on his _normally sugared_ pain au chocolat thoughtfully. 

If Mr Damocles reacted to suspicious, Damian would have to act as innocent as possible, and might have to (ugh) talk himself out of that situation. If he couldn’t sit near Marinette during lunch for any reason whatsoever, they would have to wait until tomorrow, so that they could say they hit it off after school, or something like that. If anyone argued her capability to house him, the two of them would have to give all the reasons why she was the best option. Admittedly, they hadn‘t found many outside of "she lives right next to the school", and "her parents go along with most of her bullshit", so he hoped no-one would bring it up.

For now, he finished his breakfast and brushed his teeth with the spare toothbrush Marinette had found yesterday evening. When he was done, he went back to the living room/kitchen and took the backpack he had filled with various items Marinette had given him. He had a notebook, a black pen and a pencil, his domino and grapple gun he always brought with him, and a bottle of water. Marinette was just washing up the remains of their breakfast when he put on his shoes. They were his Robin shoes, since Marinette hadn‘t found a pair that fit him, as she herself had smaller feet than him. 

"See you later!" Marinette called when he opened the front door, and he grunted in response. Then he was off.

—————————————————————————

At the school, he did his best to seem like a confused new student, which was, of course, perfect. His acting was one of his best skills, and he wouldn‘t have anyone tell him otherwise. A girl with long blond hair in twin-tails approached him. "Do you need help." It wasn‘t a question. He inclined his head gracefully, but still as confused as he could. While he didn‘t want to break character, he didn‘t want to alter his own personality to much either, at least not for the school. After all, he would have to come back here many times if he didn‘t find a way back to his own universe by next week, which he doubted. Therefore, he did not want have to slip on a false persona every time he entered the building, or interacted with one of the students.

The girl nodded at him haughtily, and showed him to the principal‘s office when he inquired about it. "New student?" she asked when they came to the door and knocked. Damian answered an affirmative and entered the room, leaving her behind. After a few seconds, he heard her walk away.

In the office, Damian watched a short man with a big grey beard behind a desk. The man, Mr Damocles probably, was in turn looking at him, at a complete loss of who Damian might be. 

"And you are…?"

"Damian Wayne, I am the foreign student from the US."

Mr Damocles looked even more confused. "I didn‘t know we were expecting you? A foreign student…" Mr Damocles frowned and Damian in turn adopted a puzzled look. He said "My parents sent all the files, but perhaps we were interacting with someone else when we contacted the school… and, well, it was last year, so perhaps it had slipped your mind?" The principal still looked a little skeptical, but Damian seemed to have persuaded him without too much difficulty. 

Mr Damocles invited him to sit in one of the two chairs opposite himself, and turned on the computer. After a few clicks- "Oh, there you go!"

Somehow, Damian managed to not smile to gleefully at that, and continued keeping it to himself when Mr Damocles apologised "for forgetting about your arrival today, you were right, it completely slipped my mind!" He continued to say that they had had a very eventful year, and stood up to take Damian to the faculty room, keeping up a steady stream of one-sided conversation. Once arrived at the teachers‘ room, Mr Damocles lead him to a young woman‘s desk, presumably Miss Bustier. 

"Caline!" he said. "This young man here is the new foreign student planned to join your class for the rest of the year." The woman, understandably enough, looked thoroughly confused. Mr Damocles shrugged and handed her a few papers he had printed out, most likely the files Damian had planted in the school’s system. "It seems to have slipped my mind after the confusion that was last year, with the akumas appearing, and no-one reminded me of it this year, so it was a little surprising when he showed up at my office." He sighed dejectedly, and looked at Damian. "Again, terribly sorry about this mess." Damian tried to look understanding and nodded at him. Mr Damocles smiled, and turned back to "Caline", who was quickly flying over the papers.

"I know this is all very sudden, and I‘m very sorry you couldn‘t plan for it. I‘m sure we can work something out over the course of this week. Anyway", he again went to face Damian, "this is Miss Bustier, she will be your teacher during your stay."

Damian greeted Miss Bustier, and while she looked suspicious, she seemingly accepted his appearance, and welcomed him to her class. After all, there was no way a 14 year old teenager was capable of infiltrating a school, and there was also no reason for such an action. Damian‘s mouth quirked up involuntarily at the underestimation. This woman had no idea what he was capable of doing, and could not fathom to comprehend his motives for _anything_. To his new teacher, his face probably seemed rather pleasant, as she gave him her own in smile in return. He startled slightly- he hadn‘t noticed his expression change from the neutral look he had adopted.

He‘d have to fix that. His facial expression wasn‘t allowed to just _slip_ , having such an obvious tell would always backfire. Only Grayson could show emotions and still have the upper hand.

Miss Bustier held a short whispered conversation with Mr Damocles to which Damian didn‘t pay attention, and then directed him to her classroom on the second floor. On the way there, Damian passed a clock. Another five minutes and the class would finally start, therefore completing Step 1 of their plan, which Marinette had annoyingly dubbed "Rester Chez Marinette ", plan to stay with Marinette, or Plan RCM for short. Step 1, of course, entailed getting accepted as a student convincingly. Damian would be happy once this whole "plan" was over so that he could dedicate his entire time to contacting the heroes, and have a secured temporary base. 

Arriving at the classroom, Damian could see through the open door that most students had already arrived, as most seats were now taken. Miss Bustier directed him to stay outside for the moment so she could announce his arrival to the rest of the class. With that, she went inside, pulling the door closed behind her, furiously going through Damian‘s files again.

He stood next to the door for a few seconds, then went over to the bannister to watch the students below. Most people had already gotten to their classes, but a few stragglers were still rushing through the courtyard. One of those figures seemed…familiar. He rolled his eyes.

"Tt. You‘re late", he said to Marinette while she walked up the stairs and towards him. "Not yet!" she countered. Then the school bell rang, and Marinette at once blanched. 

"Now you are", he called after her while she rushed to open the door.

He heard the low murmur of the class and after a few minutes Miss Bustier‘s voice announced "We have a new student! He came all the way from America, so please be nice to him!" Damian took that as his cue to enter.

When standing in front of the class, the first thing Damian noticed was how _few_ students there actually were. Despite Marinette having told him about the relatively small class sizes of Collège Françoise Dupont, he was still a little taken aback. He only counted 15 students... It was different from the school he had attended with Jon. But that was to be expected. After all, this school was a higher end French public school, not an American private school. 

His thoughts were interrupted when Miss Bustier asked him to introduce himself. He looked at the assembled children in slight disdain. He‘d have to assert himself between a bunch of _neanderthals_ again.

"My name is Damian Wayne, I am fourteen years old", a few gasps from the students, "and I have come here to study in a French school. I have been homeschooled for all my life, and am now here to prove myself to my parents." He stooped for a second, and then added as a formality "It is…nice to meet you."

"Well then, thank you Damian. Class, why don‘t you introduce yourselves quickly, so that Damian at least knows your names? I‘m sure you can make quick friends with each other!" Damian scoffed at the words of the teacher. _Friends, right._ He wasn‘t here to make friends. He was going to be civil, sure, but he had no intent of attaching himself to this universe any more than he already was. But he supposed he would have to get acquainted with Marinette‘s friends at least, as he would probably have to spend some time around them. As a detective, it was also in his best interest to know the students‘ names, as he was going to be confined in this small space for the foreseeable future. He groaned internally, and paid attention to his new classmates introductions.

In the front row, a boy with blond hair and designer clothes piped up. 

"Hi, uh, I‘m Adrien! I was homeschooled for most of my life as well!" _Ah, Marinette’s boyfriend._ Pretty Boy smiled at him, and the boy next to him wearing a red cap continued "And I‘m Nino, yo." From there, the girl next to Marinette picked up "Hi, I‘m Alya!" "…I‘m Marinette, haha, nice to meet you!" was quickly added by Marinette, who would not meet his eyes. Oh no, her acting skills were pretty atrocious. Damian wanted to facepalm. Why was this incompetent girl the one he had confided in? 

From there, the rather massive boy sitting behind her gruffly introduced himself as Ivan, and in the back row sat Nathaniel "most call me Nathan" Kurtzberg, and… "Hi, I‘m Lila! I hope we can be friends!" The girl smiled at him saccharinely, and Damian‘s brow furrowed. Marinette may be a shit liar and an absolute buffoon, but at least she was sincere. This girl smiled at him like a predator, and he did not like it. Something about her…didn‘t sit quite right with him. He made a note to observe her, then turned his head to the other side of the classroom, where two girls quietly introduced themselves as Rose and Juleka. The boys in front of them introduced themselves as Max and Kim, before a girl with reddish-pink hair confidently said "I‘m Alix! Welcome to France!", and the mousy girl next to her added "I‘m Mylène…uh…hi." She waved shyly. 

Finally, the blond girl in the front looked at him haughtily and said "I am Chloé Bourgeois, and this is Sabrina. This is my class." Damian fixed her with an unimpressed stare. Obviously the "bully" of the class. He turned back to the teacher. 

Miss Bustier smiled at him and said "Marinette over there is class president. If you ever need anything, you can ask her out. I’m sure you’ll fit right in!" Damian tried very hard not to scoff at her words. Then,Miss Bustier told him that he could sit next to Ivan, as there was still a space at his desk. Damian nodded and made his way over. He sat down in front of the Miss Too Sweet, and behind what he assumed was one of Marinette‘s friends. Marinette looked over to him and he raised an eyebrow, so she turned back to the front. The boy next to him awkwardly held out his hand. "I guess we‘re, uh, desk mates now…Uh, I hope we can get along", he said. Damian mustered his bulking form, and reluctantly shook his hand. Big Boy broke into a huge happy grin and Damian resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Figures, he‘d get stuck with another buffoon, as if Marinette wasn‘t already one to many. Big Boy seemed nice enough, he‘d survive. Most likely.

—————————————————————————

The classes took place without much trouble. As expected, most students were at a much lower level than him, but for this first day, Damian refrained from answering teachers‘ questions. He couldn‘t be completely sure that everything, particularly historic and modern political knowledge, transferred perfectly from home to this universe. Before he could show all these children their inferiority, he would have to do a few quick searches to verify that the key events and people existed here. It wouldn‘t do, to answer incorrectly and ruin his own reputation. Mistakes were not acceptable, particularly not in such an easy environment. There should be no reason for anything beneath perfection. 

Consequently, classes went by very slowly. By the time the bell announced lunch, Damian was going to die of boredom. He had noticed that his neighbour was having trouble, particularly in maths, and had endeavoured to pass the time by helping him. The math teacher was definitely incapable of her job, as her explanations only lead to more confusion for his desk mate. Thus, much of the maths class was filled with his silent whispers and Big Boy‘s confused and frustrated groaning. Damian glared at anyone who even so much as glanced in their direction. 

It was not the simpleton‘s fault he had only received subpar education.

During the short breaks between the different classes, he was talked to by most students, but only really conversed with the two girls in front of him. He had to be seen socialising with Marinette, but everyone else would have to work to pique his interest. 

Miss Saccharine behind him had tried to get his attention a few times, but he did not answer her outside of a few dismissive grunts. In the first break, she tried to talk to him about how she knew many people in the US, but he quickly rebuffed her with a "so do I" before turning to the mousy girl with rainbow dreadlocks, who had asked him about his voyage to France. He kept his answers short and purposefully vague. Sometimes, he ignored them. Big Boy had watched him for the whole first break with something akin to _worry_ , which was ridiculous, but also a little funny. 

Whenever Marinette or her friend had asked him something, his answers became a little longer. Until the friend asked about "the superheroes back home" during the second break.

Marinette paled a little, but Damian just gave another indifferent grunt before asking "Which one". Friend 1 smiled brightly, and elaborated. "My favourite hero is Majestia!" Damian mulled it over, before saying "Tt, I always get her mixed up with that other one… which one was she again? Do you have a picture?"

Friend 1 looked at him in dismay, while Marinette next to her looked close to bursting out laughing, but also listening intently. Friend 1 fumbled with her phone for a few seconds, then showed him the picture of a blond woman with a red and blue costume with yellow accents in mid-flight.

"I can‘t believe you got her mixed up with Victory! I mean, sure, their outfits look _a little_ similar, but Victory is President Homebee, for God‘s sake! And Majestia is white! How do you get the two mixed up? Sheesh, you‘re not much into the hero scene, are you?"

Damian shrugged, but considered her words. The superhero Majestia looked like a cross between Superman, Wonder Woman and Supergirl, and apparently there was another superhero that was the _President of the United States_. Okay then. Good to know. Would have been nice to know earlier, why hadn‘t he done more research yet _what was wrong with him, he was supposed to always be informed-_

He didn‘t let any of his slight panic show on his face when he answered her. "I am indeed, as you say, ‘not much into the scene’. So there‘s not much for me to talk about. I have, however, once met Majestia." Friend 1 visibly quirked up at that, and Marinette sent him a curious look. "My hometown, Greenville, was once hit by a really bad earthquake. Majestia flew over to help", he said. Greenville was a very common US city name in his universe, so he had based himself there, and if Majestia was anything like Superman or Wonder Woman, she presumably helped with natural disasters just as much as with extra-terrestrial threats. At least, he hoped so. In addition, Gotham had once suffered a horrible earthquake, and he had met Majestia‘s probable "counterparts", so it wasn‘t a complete lie.

But he needn‘t have worried, it seemed, as the dark-haired girl immediately swallowed the slight fib, and squealed with glee. Miss Sickly Sweet, behind him, tried to get his attention again by saying that, she too, had met Majestia when she "personally saved her from a tsunami", but he just rolled his eyes and said that meeting Majestia when in the US and near a disaster zone was nearly inevitable, before turning back to Alya and recommending her a trip there. 

This was kind of true as well, as most people, especially in Metropolis, could say that they had at least _seen_ Superman fly about. He wasn‘t like Batman, who mainly operated during the night.

But the mention of Majestia had given Damian something to think about for the rest of the lessons. If there were superheroes, not only in Paris, but the rest of the world as well, perhaps he could try and contact more than just Ladybug and Cat Noir, especially if they turned out to be unhelpful for his situation. Another thing to later look into, once he didn‘t have to worry about where to stay anymore. 

So, when lunch break came around, Damian was just about done with this day. But now came the most crucial step of Plan RCM: he had to convincingly "befriend" Marinette. The only problem of course being, that Damian didn‘t make friends the same way most children his age did. His friendships were based on mutual respect and at least a certain degree of hard-earned trust. He begrudgingly included all members of his team in this definition, then Jon, and then a few other people here and there. Most superheroes were only acquaintances, the students of his own school were mostly idiots, and he did not have any friends from the first ten years of his life, as the mere concept of friendship was mocked in the League.

He already counted Marinette as a possible future friend, but that was because she had helped him, no questions asked, and was the first ally he had gained in this universe. She had been willing to house a complete stranger, which showed her recklessness, but also emphasised her kindness. Maybe he got along so well with her because she reminded him of Jon? _Not now, brain._

The point was, he had no idea how he was supposed to show the other students that he was now friends with Marinette. However, when Marinette, upon hearing the bell, invited him to sit with her and her friends during lunch, the first obstacle was out of the way. He shrugged, and followed her.

The small group of friends was comprised of Alya and the Cap Guy, but gained another member when Cap Guy recruited Pretty Boy. Marinette blushed hard when Pretty Boy joined them, though. Were they perhaps not officially an "item" yet? He shelved the thought. Alya and Cap Guy were obviously romantically involved, and if Pretty Boy was indeed Marinette‘s boyfriend, the entire group was comprised of two couples. _Ugh_. He sincerely hoped none of them were particularly lovey-dovey. 

On the way to the cafeteria, the friends were chatting with each other, and Damian walked a little behind them, silent. Then Marinette noticed his silence. "Hey Damian", she said, "you know you can talk to us, right?" She laughed. Damian scowled, but dutifully caught up to them, walking between Alya and Marinette now. "Hey, do you always look like you‘ve bitten into a lemon?", Alya asked. Damian looked at her with a blank face. "Yes." The girl nearly doubled over from laughter. "Wow, your attitude is even more sour than Chloe‘s!" Damian made a face at that and didn‘t answer.

Marinette showed Damian how to get the food, but it was a little unnecessary, as the cafeteria operated just as most others did that he had come across. He took himself some yoghurt, salad, a few potatoes and a flan pâtissier for dessert. Then he followed the other four to a table. 

When he looked around the cafeteria, he noticed that a group of his new classmates had assembled around a certain table. He tried to discern the reason for the class meeting, but then saw his unpleasant side-project in the middle of the crowd, getting served. Damian looked at the scene in thinly veiled confusion. Alya must have noticed his confusion, as she immediately said "Oh yeah, Lila recently pulled a muscle in her arm, so she has trouble holding stuff. She‘s super unlucky with that kind of stuff, a few months ago, she had also sprained her wrist, and-"

"Yeah yeah, poor Lie-la, always hurt!" came the sudden outburst of Marinette. Damian turned to her, and saw that she was absolutely seething. "Lie-la?" he asked. Marinette nodded enthusiastically. "Yes, because she‘s always telling lies!"

Damian watched the reactions of her friends. Alya and Cap Guy were shaking their heads exasperatedly, but Pretty Boy didn‘t even glance up, instead continuing to eat his sausages, unbothered. _Interesting._

" Something happened between Marinette and her." It was more of a statement than a question. Alya groaned, and said "Ugh, I have no idea! Marinette is just absolutely convinced that Lila is lying about _everything_! It‘s kind of ridiculous." Marinette bristled at the words, but didn‘t say anything. Damian nodded and considered her words. He was eating his salad, deep in thought, when Cap Guy suddenly exclaimed "Dude, where‘s all your meat??" Damian glared at him in annoyance. "Not that it would be any of your business", he said, "but I‘m a vegetarian." Cap Guy gawked, then went back to tearing into his own sausages sheepishly. 

When they had all eaten, Nino and Alya excused themselves from the group. Now Damian was alone with Marinette and Pretty Boy. Damian had also deduced that the two of them actually _weren‘t_ a couple, but he concluded that it was only a matter of time. After all, Marinette was so obviously pining after him that it was painful to watch. And Adrien was incredibly oblivious, which might have just been even more painful.

Adrien tried to start small talk every few minutes, but Marinette was awkwardly fidgeting in her seat and Damian didn‘t engage in such trivial nonsense by principle, so the three of them were sitting mostly in silence. Damian had no problem with that. However, at some point, the awkward atmosphere between Marinette and her crush had become too thick to handle, so Damian abruptly stood up, startling the other two, and told them, in no uncertain terms "You two need to talk." Marinette went red, and Adrien looked dumbfounded. Damian just scowled at them. "I cannot hear myself think over your irritating sullenness! I have known you two for less than a day, and already, I can feel your stupidity rubbing off on me! We will see each other in class. I expect your issues to be resolved."

With that, he stalked off. His back felt stiff and his gait uncomfortable. _Why had he done that?_ It had been impulsive, and would now prevent him from "befriending" Marinette any further, at least for today. He groaned and made his way back to the classroom, waiting for the bell to announce the start of afternoon classes.

————————————————————————

At the end of the school day, Miss Bustier asked Marinette and Damian to stay behind. She quietly whispered something to the girl, and, when she nodded, told her that she could leave. On the way through the door, Marinette lingered for a second and met Damian‘s eyes. He gave a tiny nod, and she continued on her way. Then he made his way over to the teacher.

"So, Damian, what do you think of the collège? Were the students nice to you?"

Damian pretended to think it over, and responded "It is adequate." Miss Bustier nodded, smiling. "I see", she said, "and have you made any friends yet?"

At her condescending attitude, Damian felt a wave of irritation swell within him, but swallowed the indignation. The teacher could not know that he was not a simple child. "I suppose", he answered instead. "Marinette and her friends were kind enough to allow me to sit with them during lunch. I think that I would like to continue that." Miss Bustier gave a small amused laugh and said "That‘s nice. Did you already see the entire school and everything we have to offer? You see, we have many extracurricular activities you can do, and some clubs won‘t mind you joining this late! So, did anyone give you a tour, during lunch perhaps?"

Damian shook his head slowly. "Well then, I was planning on having Marinette show you the school tomorrow. Usually, I would have asked her to do that today, on your first day, but as your arrival was regrettably…forgotten, the tour will have to wait for tomorrow. I‘m glad you two already get along! You two will be excused for the first class, as you have me as your teacher then. I wanted to go over some homework from last week anyway, so you won‘t miss anything!" The teacher was still smiling kindly. Damian took a deep breath, then nodded. She beamed, and told him that he could go home. 

"Have a nice afternoon, Damian!"

He grunted and left. Step 2 of Plan RCM was regrettably delayed. However, the teacher had just given him a perfect opportunity to have become Marinette‘s "friend", and thus they would be able to announce his housing situation tomorrow, and have everything be nice and believable.

Damian smirked, and went back to Marinette‘s home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> French  
> Rouge-gorge - Red Robin (lit. red throat)  
> Rester Chez Marinette - Stay with Marinette (lit. Stay at Marinette‘s)  
> Flan pâtissier - French custard tart-cake thing. Delicious, you should try it. Tastes like scrambled eggs if you get a bad one, though
> 
> There you go, I hope you liked it! Next chapter will be Mari pov! 
> 
> As always, thank you for reading, and I‘d love to hear your thoughts ^-^


	8. Ladybird, ladybird, (I want to) fly away home...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette‘s view on things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here you go, the long-awaited Mari pov! I hope you like it ^^

When she had first met him, Marinette wasn‘t sure what to think of her newest acquaintance. 

She had found a boy around her age, passed out in front of her family‘s bakery. At first, she had of course assumed he might be an akuma, but then why was he unconscious? Why was he at her civilian identity‘s home? Had she accidentally revealed something?! 

In addition, she had just come back from patrol when she quite literally stumbled upon him (she might have hurt his already bruised ribs oops-), and Cat Noir and her hadn‘t found any akuma that day. So it was strange, seeing this boy in costume. That was why she had immediately tried to remove some parts of it, as the akumatised villain‘s clothing was from kwami magic, just as her own uniform, and thus pretty much unremovable. Her suspicions were thankfully proven incorrect when she got his cape off. Also, Tikki told her so.

She had contemplated calling an ambulance, but the boy was breathing evenly, more like he was sleeping. She also had a feeling that, for some reason, he would REALLY not appreciate waking up in a hospital. So she had carefully carried him piggy-back-style to her room. For this, Tikki had scolded her a little, but Marinette had explained her instinct, and Tikki accepted that. After all, she was the one who always told her to "trust her instincts".

He wasn‘t very heavy, and she set him down on her chaise longue with ease. Only now, in the light of her room, did she notice he was injured. She had begun to regret not calling an ambulance, but had resolved to wait for him to wake up and decide for himself. It was late and, after dressing his wounds to the best of her abilities, she had gone to bed, asking Tikki to wake her if she noticed him any changes in his condition.

Then, when he still didn‘t wake up in the morning, she had gotten a little more worried, and, again, regretted not having taken him to the hospital when she first stumbled upon him.

In the sunlight, while eating breakfast, she studied the boy. Black hair, darker skin, wearing a red tunic, black pants, and green gloves and boots. And, of course, a green domino and a black and yellow cape. Then, there was also the "R" on his chest… she stopped watching him before she seemed like a total creep. But she _did_ consider the pile of "confiscated items" she had taken off him to facilitate, well, his stay? Anyway, she had taken quite a big amount of _weapons_ off him. Like, an _absurd_ amount of weapons. She couldn‘t even count the number of weird-shaped daggers (and _were those throwing stars??)_ she had taken out of his _boots_ , of all places. It was frankly a little disturbing.

When he _HAD_ finally woken up while she was gone, getting lunch from downstairs, she had been _so_ relieved. And just the _tiniest_ bit guarded. And then he spoke English. _Oh my god oh my god oh my god-_

Relief had, again, flooded her when he told her he could speak French.

From there, the two had gotten along quite nicely, if she could say so herself. He had a prickly attitude, but beneath that, he was a generally nice guy from what she could gather. A little too prone to… _criminal activity…_ , but nothing too nefarious, really. Honestly, he reminded her a little of Ivan. Really, the only time she got kind of uncomfortable around him was when he‘d hacked himself into existence (could Max do that?), and…whenever he lied. Damian lied really, really well.

As far as Marinette could tell, Damian wasn‘t like Lila. Still, once he left to go _lie_ to Mr Damocles, she decided to have a little conversation with Tikki. After all, yesterday, they could only really talk while she was coming back from the akuma attack, and while she was in the basement, finally away from Damian and his sharp eyes. And he did have very, very sharp eyes. Sharp everythings. Damian Wayne was made of sharp edges, as she had immediately noticed when she had first returned to her room to find him wide awake, standing on her chaise longue in a defensive pose, looking really, _really_ threatening. He was injured, and still, he had managed to instill a vague sense of fear within her when she noticed that he was up.

"Oh Tikki, what do you think of Damian?" she asked now that the boy was gone.

Immediately, Tikki flew out of the bread basket. She settled down on the counter while Marinette cleaned. "Hmm. I don‘t really know", she said. "He seems like a very smart boy…and he‘s a superhero in his own universe! But you know…I feel like he could actually figure out your secret identity! That wouldn‘t be too good…"

Marinette nodded and said "But since he‘s a superhero, he probably knows how important it is that no one finds out! And since we‘ve already de-masked him…" Tikki sighed at her words. "You‘re right", she said, "but don‘t reveal yourself, and DEFINITELY not on purpose!" Marinette chuckled and gave an affirmative. Then she adopted a stern look.

"Do you really think he is who he says he is? He could be lying…", she said, but Tikki shook her head. "I agree, he seems very good at it, but I‘m pretty sure he‘s telling the truth about that. Don‘t worry so much, Marinette!"

Marinette sighed, but didn‘t pressed it any further. 

—————————————————————————

At school, while Damian was being badgered by the rest of her classmates, she turned to Alya. "So, what do you think about Damian?"

Alya mulled it over. "Well", she started, "he seems kind of bitchy. Did you notice how he was glaring at everyone?!" Marinette nodded, and Alya continued "At the same time, he also helped Ivan. So he can‘t be a complete asshat. He‘s kinda like Chloe around Sabrina, just less bossy, you know? But, girl, I don‘t know about him yet." A thought suddenly came to her, and Alya beamed. "Let‘s observe! Ooh, let‘s invite him to sit with us for lunch!"

Secretly, Marinette was glad that Alya had proposed this. After all, they kind of had to become friends before Wednesday at least? She HAD invited him to stay with her, in her room… She still wasn‘t entirely sure about that particular idea, but it was the best option available for him, AND it was only right to help a fellow superhero. It (probably) wasn‘t his fault he had landed here. Though, after having known him for about a day now, she could already understand a little why someone would want to get rid of him and banish him to another dimension… Obviously, she wasn‘t gong to tell HIM that, it was just a thought.

Outwardly, she hummed to herself for a second, before agreeing. "I AM the class president, after all, and it‘s only right that he shouldn‘t sit alone on his first day. Maybe we can befriend him?"

Alya just smirked.

When the time for lunch came, her best friend convinced Nino and _Adrien (squee!)_ to sit with them. Marinette tried to involve Damian in their small talk to the best of her abilities, but the dark-haired boy was just _SO_ stand-offish! Oh well. At least she could say she tried.

In the cafeteria, she found out that Damian was vegetarian. He was going to live with her, and she hadn‘t asked for any of his eating habits yet… Marinette decided to ask him later whether he had any allergies. 

At least he didn‘t seem to trust Lila yet.

When he had asked about he flock of classmates around her table, as always, Alya made it sound like _Marinette_ was being the unreasonable one. She sincerely hoped she‘d be able to keep him from falling for all her lies. 

Then Alya and Nino left. And _then_ , Damian told her and Adrien to sort out their feelings _and just left. Oh my god oh my god oh my god-_

Adrien cleared his throat. "So…", he started awkwardly, "do you know what that was about?"

Marinette hurried to shake her head vehemently. "Uhhh…" She struggled to string together a sensible and coherent sentence. After watching her flounder for a few seconds, Adrien chuckled. "What do you think of our new classmate?" he asked. Marinette sighed, relieved that he had found a topic to talk about that wasn‘t going to address her feelings for him.

"I think he‘s…nice enough?" she tried. Maybe she could use this already to show to more people that she was trying to become friends with their newest broody addition? "I think that he has a prickly skin around his heart, but that he‘s probably a good person underneath his… _brash_ attitude. I mean, he helped Ivan during math class?"

Adrien nodded sagely. "I think so too. His situation kind of reminds me of myself? He said he wanted to prove himself to his father…" He looked away. Marinette really wanted to cheer him up. 

"Well", she said, "if he‘s here, it means he managed something already! I‘m sure if we all become his friends, and we WILL, just like we did with you, his dad will have to let him do stuff, just like yours is starting to! I‘m sure you can also prove yourself someday. Everything will work out somehow, I‘m certain!" Adrien smiled at her proclamation, and said "I hope you‘re right." Marinette decided to take that as a win for now.

They continued like this for a little longer, and Marinette was kind of surprised how easy it was, talking to Adrien. This was nearly a dream come true! They finally had to stop when the bell rang to announce afternoon classes. They walked together, continuing to talk, and arrived at the classroom before their teacher. There, Marinette saw Damian, scribbling something in his notebook, seemingly quite bored.

Immediately, Marinette felt a pang of guilt in her stomach. While she had had a nice lunch break with Adrien, Damian had sat in this classroom all by himself, even though they had agreed to publicly befriend each other…

Then she noticed Nathan was sitting behind him and apparently kind of talking with him? Damian was only grunting, but he didn‘t look unhappy… Marinette smiled. Apparently Mister Universe-hopper was already making friends with her other classmates. This revelation did a lot to assuage her guilty feelings, and she slid into her place next to Alya with a pleased grin. Then she noticed Alya was waggling her eyebrows at her.

"What?" she asked. Alya laughed and said "If Prickly-Butt is already here, and was already here when I arrived, it means you and Adrien were alone together for quite some time… you sly fox!"

Marinette felt her cheeks heating, and hid her red face in her hands. "Alyaaaa…", she groaned. Her best friend just continued laughing.

Later, Miss Bustier asked her and Damian to the front. Damian took a little longer, finishing a quiet discussion with Ivan, so Marinette arrived first. 

"Yes, Miss Bustier?" she said. Her favourite teacher smiled at her kindly. "Usually, I would have asked you today, or last Friday", she said, "but something happened to the enrolment of Damian, so that we only learned of him today." Marinette nodded innocently, pointedly _not_ thinking of Damian hacking into the school‘s system from her computer.

Miss Bustier looked towards where Damian was putting his notebook into his bag, then turned back to Marinette. "As class president, would you show him around school tomorrow? I‘d like for him to feel accepted, and I‘m very proud of you for already reaching out to him today." She winked conspiratorially. "I saw you five at lunch together", she whispered. 

Marinette beamed, and agreed to show him around during first period on Tuesday. Damian joined them, and Miss Bustier told Marinette to leave for today. At that, she quickly glanced towards Damian, who gave her a tiny nod before turning to Miss Bustier. Marinette left.

She was walking across the street, wondering what to do about patrol now that she had another person at home, particularly one _living in her bedroom_ , when she noticed an explosion the next street over, and the decision was taken from her. Immediately, she ran for cover and transformed. A few seconds later, Ladybug was running towards today‘s akumatised villain. 

—————————————————————————

"Coryphée", a ballet-themed villain, turned out to be _really hard to catch._ The woman was spinning around, creating localised tornadoes, and throwing her leg up in grands battements, creating explosions. All the while, faint piano music wafted up from the chaos, which lead to people falling asleep. It was incredibly _frustrating_. At least she didn‘t have a Sentimonster along, or the fight would have been even MORE difficult. 

Neither she nor Chat had figured out which object had been akumatised, and they had both been caught up in her sleeping music _at least_ once, only to be woken up by an explosion _to the face_. The whole experience was hardly pleasant, and _definitely NOT_ what she would sign up for when looking for an "interesting" performance, even though "Wanting to provide an interesting performance" was most likely the reason for the akumatisation. Afterall, Coryphée was constantly screeching about people falling asleep during her play.

Two hours later, and the villain still wasn‘t dealt with yet. At least they now knew that the _ballet shoes_ were _not_ the akumatised object.

Marinette had already used her Lucky Charm once, and had _nearly_ caught the villain, but then, a sudden storm had interrupted her plan, which had involved blank paper sheets and dry towels. Yeah. Apparently, even her superpower could not account for certain weather phenomena. And really, it was her own fault for activating her power before she knew excatly which object was akumatised. She was pretty sure it was in her headdress, now, since she was always clutching it when activating her sleep-inducing music, and when timing certain explosions. _That_ was completely on their own stupidity, not the weather. 

So here she was, freshly re-transformed, and very near her wits‘ end. She was standing on one of the buildings opposite the Eiffel Tower (and really, what was it with akuma attacks always being around _at least_ one of Paris‘ landmarks? Come on), when she was startled by a small rustle behind her, just to see a person making their way out of the shadows. How were they even doing that? And wait...was that _Damian??_ Yep. Standing there, in his full unimpressive probably-140-cm-tall glory, fully dressed in red, green and black, was Damian, nearly giving her a heart attack by sneaking up on her. 

_What. The. Fuck._

He levelled her with an unimpressed glare, two daggers in his hands. _Oh my God._ Honestly, what even was Marinette‘s life? Damian was injured, and supposed to be at home. She paled when she noticed that she had completely forgotten about him. What was he thinking where she might have gone? Coming back to an empty apartment... Maybe Damian thought that she had been kidnapped! ...or something. Tikki was going to kill her later. 

But that was later. For now, she was pulled out of her thoughts by the sound of Damian‘s voice.

"I suppose you are Ladybug. I am Robin. Tell me your current plan of attack, and after that, I will require your assistance."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> French:  
>  _Coryphée_ \- a word for a primaballerina, the lead female ballet dancer of a troupe.  
>  _grand battement_ \- ballet move, where you swing your leg up very fast, very high.
> 
> It‘s a bit short, but I hope you guys enjoyed this Mari pov chapter! Should I do any more? I‘d love to hear your thoughts.
> 
> As always, thank you for reading ^^


	9. Of Ballerinas and Pufferfish

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I‘m so, so sorry for this impromptu hiatus. I really wanted to update in July, but the chapter just would not get done. Then I really tried to finish it last week, but that too failed, although more because I‘m currently on holidays with my fam, so no time to write. But here it finally is! I hope you guys enjoy.

Walking home from school was a relief. After the teacher had dismissed him, he had been able to pick up his pace, and no-one had dared bother him. The children all assumed he was in a hurry, and did not try to accost him. Only Big Boy had looked like he wanted to stop him for a second, before turning away and quietly watching him walk past. 

Thank goodness. 

He could not deal with any more morons trying to "get to know him". This short walk felt much freer than the past eight hours in that stifling school building with a bunch of simpletons. 

Too bad that it took less than five minutes to cross the street. 

Once "at home", Damian sat down in front of Marinette‘s computer. He needed to do some more research into the superheroes of this universe, after his knowledge had proven to be completely inadequate. He had barely gotten by in that conversation with Alya, after all! Absolutely unacceptable. And he had to wait for Marinette anyway, to further any plans for Plan RCM.

So while he waited for her to join him, he researched the multiple heroes of this dimension. 

To his absolute infinite astonishment (take that, Pennyworth! He could do sarcasm just fine), the US seemed to have the most. Of course. It seemed this too was a bit of a universal constant… but Paris had an _actually_ surprising number of superheroes, which seemed to be quite localised. Just as Gotham had his father and…the rest, there were only very few mentions of Ladybug, Chat Noir, and a handful of other heroes such as "Queen Bee" or "Rena Rouge", outside of Paris and its suburbs. 

He looked up all available (and of course, some less available) information, but there was not much outside of the "Official Ladyblog" and a short interview from Cat Noir and Ladybug with TV5. However, he had to stop after watching less than five minutes. Watching the two flounder about the romantic subplot forced upon them was... not very enjoyable. 

They all apparently got their powers through some kind of jewellery, and had enhanced abilities besides their main super powers, which also apparently all differed from one another. The known information was interesting enough, and when he found out that the identities of most of the heroes were completely unknown, he allowed himself some satisfaction. Perhaps these people would not be utterly incapable when he inevitably met them. 

Except for Queen Bee. 

Apparently, Queen Boastful had announced her secret identity to the world. 

Damian scowled at the computer screen. That was completely moronic and would not do. Not at all. He refused to share the title of "hero" with someone that stupid. Perhaps…

He sighed. He would have to teach that idiot, who was coincidentally in his class, a little lesson about _stealth_ , and the importance of _absolute secrecy_. He could not let such buffoons sully the name of superheroes, after all. He simply had to start…small. Maybe she would prove more teachable than Grayson‘s "friends". After all, if one started with nothing, one had nothing to loose. It would make for an interesting enough side-project, after contact with the _actually competent_ heroes was established, of course. 

With a small mental note to tutor another ignorant child, he sat back on Marinette‘s plush chair and waited a little. It was… comfortable. He didn‘t mind it. The wait, that was. But he was getting a little annoyed as he waited. And waited. 

Damian took a deep breath. He did not like having to wait. Stake-outs and the such were of course no issue, but if he was expecting someone, he expected them on time. Now _where **was she**._

If he had been trained any less perfectly, he would have tapped his foot against the chair leg. As such, he was too professional for such an obvious tell. But he was getting impatient. For crying out loud, that school was across the street! Even a civilian couldn‘t take _one and a half hours_ to walk those twenty metres! 

He slowly let out a breath through his nose. He did not like how shaky it was, how utterly impatient he sounded, how completely _not in control_ \- he shook his head.

Then, Damian decided it was time to take action. What could hold up a civilian girl across the street?

Something small in the right-hand corner of the computer screen had lit up a while ago, but he‘d ignored it. Now, he decided to open the little red alert. Apparently, it was some kind of akuma alert… for the Eiffel Tower. Ah, that would explain her tardiness. He probably should have checked that earlier.

Then, an explosion went off in the distance. 

Damian stared at it blankly. It was quite unimpressive, when compared to what he was used to. However, he could not understand how he hadn‘t noticed the chaos and the faint classical music wafting in through the window sooner. 

Probably the concussion. 

Then, he went over to his little clothing pile, and pulled on his costume. He was, after all, Robin, and Robin had a certain duty to save people. His leg was fine, and the concussion probably only impaired his hearing. Maybe. 

Whatever. 

He could fight, and this way, he would have an easy time conversing with Ladybug, or whatever superhero would be present today. 

Five minutes later, Robin exited the house through the balcony and went off to observe the situation.

Ten minutes later, Robin decided the Parisian superheroes were _fucking idiots_. 

The villain was literally dancing circles around them, and the music was obnoxious and, apparently, sleep-inducing. Cat Noir and Ladybug were the heroes present again, and they were completely failing at keeping the threat contained. After all, he watched one, or both, get swept up by a tiny tornado created by the villain _at least twice by now._

Of course, they looked professional enough, with those flawless and quite functional clothes, but even a blind baby would be able to recognise their absolute incompetence faced with anything stronger than an _evil toaster_. 

Damian had decided he would first need a proper read on the situation before interfering, and was thus currently perched on the roof of a nearby house, observing. Cat Noir was bouncing around, trying to distract the ballet-themed villain. Meanwhile, Ladybug was trying to catch her, or neutralise her, or whatever her task was for villain attacks. A crowd of civilians, particularly reporters, was watching the whole debacle. They were completely useless- constantly in the way, or shortly taken hostage, or just plain nuisances- He snorted.

Non-combatant spectators were so annoying.

He scanned the crowd. Marinette was not amongst them. He nodded, slightly satisfied that the civilian he had to hang around wasn‘t an idiot bystander, happy to watch fights and get rescued. Thank goodness.

He turned his eyes back to the chaos. The two heroes looked like they really needed help. He got ready to jump down and take control of the… situation. The two heroes were obviously too weak.

However, before he could jump, for a second, Ladybug looked like she had come up with some kind of solution. He settled back down. Her yo-yo lit up, and something appeared in her hand- 

-before promptly being completely soaked. Apparently, the weather had changed, and the relatively dry chaos had become a rather wet chaos. The villain, Coryphée, as she was constantly screaming her name to be, laughed and gathered up tiny rainclouds into her miniature tornadoes. 

Damian wanted to slap his hand to his face. Such…escalation. And incompetence. He should have jumped down.

Ladybug tried to stop her, but something seemed to distracted her, and Cat Noir kept giving her worried glances in between distracting the villain. The sky was getting darker, with a faint rumbling in the distance, barely distinguished from the chaotic piano music. Raindrops were pelting off the roof behind him, and even the civilians that had gathered around instead of running away when confronted with the villain attack were dispersing, seeking shelter. But the two heroes were so distracted, that Cat Noir didn’t even notice that he was running into a stationary car. Damian narrowed his eyes. _What was going on down there?_ What were they waiting for? 

Then, Ladybug ran off and disappeared.

Damian desperately wanted to take over the situation. He wanted to lead these idiots and catch the villain far more effectively than any attempt their stupid little brains would be capable of coming up with, but he had to hold back. After all, he wanted to make a…good impression on them. He couldn‘t be sure that they would be willing to help him if he introduced himself the way he would usually, because if they felt inadequate, they might become petty. And while that would be absolutely unacceptable and _very_ unprofessional, the two superheroes looked rather young, and he had to avoid something like that happening.

At all cost. 

So instead, he waited for his opportunity, waited for Ladybug to come back in sight, and used the rain and the shadows (which were _still_ not as dark as he would prefer, and really, was it so hard to be a nocturnal villain?) to appear behind her, in true Bat fashion. Ladybug startled.

Damian took a deep breath through his nose, and forced his voice into something deeper, soothing but gruff, like Father‘s voice. He couldn’t sound like a fourteen-year-old. Most people would instantly listen to Father, after all, but not a _child_ and right now, he needed these idiots to _listen_ to him. His 148 cm height (he was growing, Todd!) was disadvantage enough without his _squeak_. He couldn‘t wait to prove himself, or for Robin‘s reputation to help him, so he had to use his vocal talents. He was never going to stoop down to the level of using a _voice modulator_ if he could achieve the same effect with his natural voice (unlike _Todd_ ), so he often only used this deeper voice when talking to new heroes for the first time who were likely to underestimate him.

He just shouldn‘t keep it up long. It might damage his vocal chords.

_He still had no intention of using a voice modulator, Todd._

He also completely ignored the possibility of emulating the chipper tones of Grayson‘s _"teamwork yay!"_ voice, which was equally listened to, but which no self-respecting person should ever sound like.

Ever.

No-one was that happy at the prospect of _teamwork_.

Instead, he channelled his inner Batman, and said: "I suppose you are Ladybug. I am Robin. Tell me your current plan of attack-", he stopped, considered it for a second, "-and after that, I will require your assistance", he tacked on.

The hero in front of him looked like she had just suffered a series of severe heart-attacks in a row. Under her red and black domino mask, she was watching him in barely concealed disbelief, wide eyes taking him in. 

Robin stared back.

"Your plan of attack", he reminded her, with a voice closer to his own, when her silence had stretched too long for an active battlefield. Was the difference between visual and auditorial input so disconcerting? Laughable.

Ladybug shook herself. "Right, our plan", she murmured, barely audible over the rain. However, before Ladybug could answer properly, a giant explosion caught them in the face. 

Damian twirled around to their opponent, daggers at hand. Ladybug too seemed to get her act together, as she went to stand next to him, yo-yo spinning like a lasso.

Coryphée stared at the two superheroes, and immediately started screeching.

"HOW DARE YOU INTERRUPT MY SHOW, YOU LATE LITTLE CRETIN! IT WAS GOING SO SMOOTHLY, AND NOW THERE‘S ANOTHER ONE?? YOU LITTLE RASCAL! I SAID NO-ONE SHALL GAIN ACCESS TO MY PERFORMANCE AFTER THE DOORS CLOSE!"

She punctuated her words with a little tornado sent in Damian‘s direction, and when he dodged, she jumped at him to kick him off the roof. Only the instinctive reach for his grapple gun saved him, as he somehow managed to swing to another building across the street. Before he could catch his breath, however, Coryphée was in front of him again, fuming.

"FIRST YOU INTERRUPT MY SOLO, AND NOW YOU TAKE UP ALL THE ATTENTION! I’LL SHOW YOU, TO NOT PAY ATTENTION TO MY BALLETT! YOU SHALL BE PUNISHED FOR THIS!"

Coryphée attempted to kick him again, and Damian only narrowly avoided getting skewered by the needle-like point shoes she was wearing. 

The villainess twirled in a quick and angry pirouette,raindrops and tiny storm clouds flying into every direction, before launching herself at him again. Damian fended off her next kick with his daggers, but when she suddenly reached over her leg to grab his arms, he tried to step away, and-

-slipped.

The wet ground gave out under his feet, and Damian was falling. He barely slipped under her sharp shoes without getting stuck, and used his fall to roll away from her. He propelled himself into the opposite direction of her and tried to reign in his expression of shock. No time to breathe. 

Crazed laughter sounded out behind him, but Damian quickly jumped up again to face the akumatised ballerina. However, he hadn‘t accounted for her superhuman speed, so, instead of facing her, she appeared behind him, and sharply chopped her arm against his head, effectively knocking him across the wet roof.

Damian tasted blood.

He crashed and rolled into a defensive crouch, looking back at his attacker.

There she stood, across the long roof, watching him, looking nearly floating on her tiny thin point shoes, legs crossed in a perfect fifth position, arms open and slightly bent in a flawless second. Her chin was raised, and she was looking at him from above with an expression of graceful indifference, eyes tight and lips slightly pressed together.

"I hope you have learnt your lesson, little boy! However, you do not seem to have a Miraculous, and are thus useless to me. Stay out of my way!"

She turned away and stalked across the roof. The music grew louder.

Damian seethed. _Robin_ seethed. That woman was mocking him! She was mocking him as a person, and as a hero, with her condescending words and turning her back to him. 

She would pay for that underestimation.

First, however, Damian had to take care of that damned music before falling asleep.

He covered his ears with his hands and scoured the wet roof for something usable. Why had he not brought his stupid earplugs?

_There._

Damian grabbed a fistfull of sopping moss from an earthy corner and, praying that the disgusting soup would not flow into his earcanal, quickly stuck it into his ears.

It was even worse than he could have imagined.

Then, he watched Coryphée‘s retreating back for a second, watched her preparing to bound back to the Eiffel Tower, calculated the approximate distance, the interference of wind and rain, and threw one of his daggers. He watched it fly towards her. He watched her jump. He watched his dagger perfectly nick her side and allowed himself a second to smile. 

The ballet music stopped.

"Tt- shouldn‘t have turned your back on me."

Jumping up, Damian calmly pulled the moss from his ears and took stock of his surroundings. He was alone on a roof, a little farther from the Eiffel Tower than expected. Coryphée was carefully standing up from were she had crashed to the ground, the two Parisian superheroes hovering around her, uncertain. He rolled his eyes.

"What are you waiting for?", he called down, loudly over the storm. "Can you not purify her now or whatever else you imbeciles usually do?"

Cat Noir and Ladybug snapped their heads up to look at him. Wide eyes stared into his, before Ladybug shook herself again and nodded.

"Lucky Charm!"

She threw her yo-yo in the air. A bright pink light flashed and blinded him for a second, but afterwards, Ladybug was holding a frisbee in her hands. _What._

The duo on the ground looked at each other and nodded. Cat Noir also activated his power, and after a particularly strong gust of wind, Ladybug threw the frisbee at the confused Coryphée. The villainess screeched and made to run away, but the wind carried the frisbee right over her head, knocking off the headdress. Cat Noir caught both the frisbee and the headdress, and let the headdress fall to dust. 

Ah yes, highly destructive eroding power. Damian decided that he did not want to interact too much with this particular hero.

On the ground, Cat Noir threw the frisbee back at Ladybug. A tiny butterfly escaped the ruined headdress, barely visible through the downpour, but Damian watched it get captured by Ladybug‘s yo-yo, who then threw the frisbee in the air. The bright pink light appeared again. Damian had to close his eyes. 

When he opened them again, the damages were repaired, and Coryphée had turned back into a normal, if very soaked, ballerina. Ladybug and Cat Noir looked to be laughing, and Damian decided that he should confront the two now.

He quickly scaled the building and joined them.

Ladybug startled _again_. Damian thought that she should really improve her spacial awareness if she hadn‘t even noticed his relatively loud approach, especially since his boots were making wet plats with every step. Of course, he could have avoided those, but he had _wanted_ to be noticed. Too bad that Ladybug was apparently deaf. At least Cat Noir had noticed him.

"Who are you?", the hero asked incredulously. "How did you fight like that? I‘m pretty sure you don‘t have a-"

Ladybug quickly stepped between them. "Cat Noir! This is Robin, he‘s, uh, another hero! He, uh, helped?" She turned to him. "Robin, this is my partner Cat Noir. You, uh, probably already knew that!" She laughed feebly, rubbing the back of her neck. 

Damian nodded. "I apologise for not being of more help. I was not expecting her to come after me like that. However, I still require your assistance. Would you be available to talk now?"

Ladybug and Cat Noir shared a look. Damian bristled.

"Uhhh…"

Just then, something beeped. Damian glanced around, before his eyes narrowed on Ladybug‘s earrings. They appeared to be… flashing? Ah yes, the assumed source of her powers.

Ladybug flushed. "I, uh, I need to leave." She looked about to turn away, then thought better of it. She performed a weird sort of wiggle, tucked her hair back, hesitated. "Maybe we can talk soon, uhmm…uh, thanks for your help! We‘ll contact you! Promise! Bye!" Then she was off. Damian watched her leave with barely concealed disbelief. _WHAT?_ How dare she just, just _brush him off_ like that! He whirled around to Cat Noir angrily.

Who was also in the middle of trying to sneak away. 

When he noticed Damian‘s furious look, he turned back sheepishly. "Haha, sorry… but, uh, we‘re kind of on, uh, a time limit?"

"A time limit."

Cat Noir nodded, not acknowledging his deadpan. "Yup, a time limit", he said sagely. "So we can‘t stay long after the villain is defeated? Yeah, sorry bout that, cape boy."

_CAPE BOY?!_

Damian was about to argue, but Cat Noir held up a finger and said: "We‘ll be in contact! Don‘t worry! See you!"

Then, he too bounded away. 

Damian screamed into the wind. 

He was soaked, he was angry, no, _absolutely furious_ , his head hurt and the two superheroes had just- Damian screamed out his frustration again. Then he buried his face in his hands. Tiny droplets flew everywhere. This was… completely mortifying. People were watching him. He wanted to sink into the ground. 

Instead, he took a deep breath and glared up at the people assembled around him. When most of them flinched, he allowed himself a little grim satisfaction. Then he turned around and shot his grapple gun at the nearest house.

Damian took a detour before going back to the bakery, swinging and running across the rooftops of Paris. He couldn‘t deny it; Paris looked stunning from up here. The lights of the evening reflected from the wet asphalt on the ground, and the roofs were dark oases to the lit houses and apartments beneath his feet. It reminded him of ~~home~~ Gotham. 

He took his time, simply cooling off. Back in Gotham, he wouldn’t have allowed himself such a break.

Back there, there would always be at least one Arkham-breakout a month, and lots of deranged villains on all the other nights. It was always very busy in "the hell hole". Paris was smaller than Gotham, and it didn‘t need a vengeful bat. Or at least, it didn’t know so yet. Of course, he still broke up scuffles when he noticed them, and saved at least one purse from getting stolen, but the people weren‘t particularly grateful, or even neutral. They were more… _weirded out_ than anything else. 

However, he didn‘t want to be followed back to Marinette‘s. He also needed to clear his head a little before he had to deal with a starry-eyed civilian who would surely confront him about this little _escapade_. So, he stayed out. At some point, he would have to return. But right now…

Damn it.

He wanted to curse, he wanted to scream, he wanted to punch something, he wanted to _kill something_. 

~~He wanted to go home~~.

Around him, the Parisian night fell. Damian settled down on Marinette‘s roof and watched the cars go by. He watched the lights illuminating the Eiffel Tower light up. The sounds reaching his ears were muffled in the already quiet residential area. Somewhere, a baby started screaming. He felt exhausted. Feelings were exhausting. How could Grayson deal with this?

At some point, a warm body came up to sit next to him. He could see the light of a small screen from the corner of his eye.

Thankfully, she stayed silent.

It was quiet.

It was quaint.

It was absolutely and completely inferior to his own universe in every way, shape or form. At least there, he had his own room.

And Titus.

And Alfred The Cat.

And normal superheroes who weren‘t all idiots, even if some (or most) were.

Superheroes who he could _contact_ and didn‘t apparently have _a time-limit_. Superheroes who he could rely on.

~~Jon.~~

Enough thinking.

Damian stood up, startling Marinette, who was playing some kind of game on her phone. Off-handedly, he noticed that she startled similarly to Ladybug… 

Maybe he was reading too much into this. 

Probably the concussion.

He shook himself out of his thoughts and calmly made his way to the trapdoor leading inside. As expected, Marinette followed him. 

Supper was a mostly silent affair. They didn‘t talk much. He wasn‘t in the mood, and Marinette could read the room. She asked a few brief questions about his whereabouts, what he did before joining the fight, berated him about "fighting in his condition in the first place", asked him what he thought of the two Parisian heroes, told him her thoughts on the fight she‘d somehow watched live on her phone. But she mostly just ate her cereals in silence. 

After dinner, they went up to Marinette‘s room. They briefly talked about the failed step in Plan RCM of today, and how they‘d have to adjust some things. But it was a short talk, and soon enough, they were both lying in their respective beds.

Damian closed his eyes. 

-and was woken up by the _fucking obnoxious sound_ of an alarm clock that started blaring right next to him. Light streamed in through the windows. 

Damian looked at the alarm clock _he did not remember setting_. It was one of those horrible gaudy little plastic ball-thingies that lit up in bright colours and sang the most headache-inducing songs in existence, which you were sure to get stuck in your head for the rest of the day. Marinette had found it in the basement while he was gone yesterday, and had quickly shown him. Because of his mood though, it had been just a brief "Look what I found!" before going to brush her teeth, instead of the demonstration she had obviously wanted to give.

Apparently, she decided that such a demonstration would be the perfect way to wake him.

He was going to kill her.

Slowly and painfully.

Damian looked at the brightly flaring monstrosity and contemplated throwing it out of the window. Let the tinny and disgustingly cheerful music annoy someone else. 

Then it started rolling around like a demented pufferfish.

 _What the fuck_.

He watched the thing roll around on the floor, transfixed, fascinated, and, not that he was ever going to admit it, a little horrified. It looked nearly…possessed, blaring and moving as it was. He distantly wondered whether he should burn it. Then perhaps recite a few prayers over its ashes, for good measures.

Maybe just throw it out of the window after all, let it be someone else‘s problem. Hope it smashed.

In the end, he decided against any violent elimination methods, and simply turned the hellish device off. 

From the other side of the room, he could hear a small laugh. Damian glared at the girl, who only laughed harder. He grumbled a little, but then smirked and started on his morning routine. Might as well hog the bathroom while she was still busy being amused at his expense. 

After that, well, rather _lively_ start to the morning, breakfast was a loud affair. Gone was the serene silence of yesterday. 

Instead, Marinette‘s chatter filled the kitchen.

She blathered on about the sunny weather, so unusual for Paris in early April, how the weather had changed so quickly yesterday, how cool he had apparently looked fighting in the rain (ugh). She also told him that she expected to "hear about his home universe later, no excuses!", and Damian reluctantly agreed. After all, he had promised to already tell her yesterday, but, well, villain (and hero!)-shaped nuisances had thrown a wench into their "dinner plans".

After breakfast, he helped wash up the dishes and got ready to leave. Marinette was, of course, late, so he waited by the door, messing around with Marinette’s old phone she had given him. As it turned out, it did not have a working contract, so currently, it was little more than a glorified game boy. They were going to fix that after school.

Finally, Marinette joined him, tripping down the stairs, struggling to get her ballerinas on. He gave her a _look_ and she winced. Oh well. He‘d have to talk to her about her punctuality.

Then they left for the day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter fought me. HARD. I had to take a break from this story, because I had absolutely zero inspiration to write this. I‘ve never written a fight scene before, and I really struggled with making it flow. I always feel like a take too much time with the small, unimportant details, and when I finally started this chapter, I had no idea how to write a Dami pov anymore! So yeah, I‘m sorry for the long wait.
> 
> On the plus side, I think I have an update schedule figured out, in that I don‘t have one, and will instead just try to upload once a month, sometimes twice if I have a chapter finished earlier. Half of chapter 10 is already written, so I want to try uploading that one next week.
> 
> I also wanted to ask you guys‘ opinion on my story telling and the pace I‘ve set for this fic. It‘s my first one, and I feel like this is a very, very slow paced fic. I don‘t know how to make it progress faster, because I feel like I‘d be cutting out important details (for me) if I skim over days, or even only a few hours. The pace will of course pick up naturally after the setting up stage is over, once I‘ve established all the necessary exposition, but I wanted to ask you guys what you think of my rather… thorough style.
> 
> As always, thank you so much for reading! And thank you so much, 7spiDer7, for your comments, they really motivated me to finish this chapter. I‘m sorry it took longer than expected.
> 
> I‘d love to hear all your thoughts, and really appreciate feedback, as this work is unbetaed. Thank you for reading ^-^


	10. Pure Evil condensed in One (1) Wannabe Reporter (1/2)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I‘m so sorry this chapter is so late, again! And it‘s only really a half chapter... I‘ll do my best to post the other half within this week, but I really just wanted to update _something_ in September. So here it is quite short, but hopefully you guys will enjoy :‘)

When they arrived, the school was abuzz with talk about the new hero. It was annoying, and the students were being completely obnoxious. Damian couldn‘t decided whether he wanted to turn around and leave, or just burn the entire building down.

Every time he heard the phrase _"Robin looked soooo cool!!"_ , he felt the lining of his throat curdle accompanied by an overwhelming urge to gag. People were squeeing over him. _Again._

Apparently, Friend 1, _Alya, **the one who runs the most popular superhero blog in Paris,**_ was in the crowd of nosy onlookers yesterday. And filmed. Every. _Damn. **Thing**_. 

He was going to strangle her.

And Marinette as well, because every _single_ time the two of them passed a student fawning over "_his cute, tiny stature, did you hear his voice?? So cute and deadly!!_" , she let out a very undignified snort to match his _very dignified scowl_.

Then, they passed a person selling out tiny drawings of his R icon that they had apparently copied from a still of the video.

Forget curdle, Damian felt his throat _shrivel up and die_. 

Of course, Marinette immediately wanted to buy one.

They were only 40 cents a piece.

And they were selling out.

_Fast._

How did Robin even get so popular so quickly? It simply made no sense.

"Tt."

Figures that these children would fawn over any new shiny hero to appear.

…even though he only appeared a single time.

_How was Robin already so famous and, even worse, **popular??**_

It was nonsensical. And mortifying. And Marinette was the worst, giggling at ~~his embarrassment~~ this farce. Worse than Brown, worse than Drake, worse than _Todd_

…

Ok, no, Todd was worse.

At some point of them crossing the courtyard, the Origin Of This Chaos and Cap Guy joined them. 

"What crawled into his breakfast and died?", asked Pure Evil.

"Just a little birdie", snickered Goading Bystander. 

Cap Guy also laughed, if a little confused.

Damian flashed them a glare.

Marinette laughed harder.

Alya looked to be processing that statement for a moment, before her eyes lit up. "Oh, are you confused about the new hero? Did you only hear about him this morning? Is he perhaps an upstart from the US? Are you confused at his immediate rise to popularity? Do you wish _you_ were that popular? Or just not a fan? Do you dislike his methods? I mean, yeah, that knife was pretty, uh, sharp, but it got the job done? I kind of thought you‘d like those pointy things? Or did I misjudge you? Are you actually just a giant cuddly bear who dislikes all forms of violence?"

She looked at him expectantly. He scowled at her. He thought he heard Marinette murmur an affirmative to the last question, but he chose to ignore that particular transgression.

Alya shrugged. 

"Since I heard your unasked questions AND because I am the obvious source of all wisdom, keeper of knowledge on the newest, smallest-" Damian‘s scowl deepened "-and deadliest hero, I shall deign to give you all the information you seek on: Robin!", she ended with jazz hands. Cap Guy clapped.

The urge to strangle these children became stronger.

"Yes", he sighed instead.

Source of All his Future Embarrassment beamed. 

He knew he was going to regret this.

"Okay, so, we often get some superheroes here in Paris who only appear very few times! And they‘re all really cool (my personal favourite is Rena Rouge, haha), so every time a new one appears, we have to make the most of it, because we might only have a very limited source of material of them in action, or anywhere really, you know. And since we have a very dedicated hero fanbase here, _particularly_ here, at this school, we all really quickly catch on to new ones!"

She gave a little conspiratorial wink. "And I mean, nothing screams badass like a mysterious, obviously young guy, who wields two knives and takes down an akumatised villain! I mean, the only reason we know his name is because, while he was fighting Coryphée, _I_ asked Ladybug who that was, and she told me! And everyone is super interested _because_ there is so little info on him! I mean, his existence is shrouded in more mystery than any other heroes! My Ladyblog is basically the only source of intel on this guy _in existence!_ The theories and rumours are running wild in Paris!"

Her little rant had gotten progressively louder, so she cleared her throat and smiled at him cheekily. "So yeah, that‘s why everyone is going so crazy right now", she finished.

Cap Guy clapped again. "Good explanation, Alya!"

The couple smiled at each other, and Damian took that as his cue to drag a giggling Marinette to the classroom.

As expected, the teacher was already present. Her sunny smile only served to further his bad mood, but he forced his face into a neutral expression. Otherwise she might ask what was _wrong, are you okay, Damian?_.

Ugh.

Marinette, however, did not seem to share his misery, and instead happily chirped: "Miss Bustier, we‘re here! We met before the gates and he‘s ready for his tour!"

Miss Bustier directed her smile at her.

"You can leave your things here, you two", she said. "I‘m very glad you are already getting along! I hope you can deepen that budding friendship I see there." She directed her smile back at him. "I also hope that you‘ll find our school interesting! Marinette can go over all the materials I expect you to bring starting tomorrow. Maybe you can even ask her for help when buying them." She clapped her hands, obviously delighted. "Perhaps, Marinette, you could take him shopping after school! I‘m sure it must be scary in a new city, all alone, Damian. And Marinette surely knows the best places for school supplies", she ended with a conspiratory wink.

Next to him, Marinette squirmed happily, nodding along. 

Damian felt a throb at his temple which he was sure wasn‘t there before.

Great. An overly cheery teacher who actively meddles in her students‘ lives to get them to be friends. He had one like that at his and Jon‘s school. That teacher…was a bit of a nuisance. _Class bonding time_ , the teacher liked to call it when he forced his homeroom class to sit outside together. 

Thankfully, Damian was not in that homeroom class.

However, this time he _was_ in such a homeroom class.

 _Ugh_.

He resigned himself to more such "encouragements" to befriend his classmates, and barely suppressed his urge to grimace.

Miss Bustier told them to come back shortly before the next lesson. Then she ushered them out with the promise of not missing anything important.

Damian shrugged and followed Marinette out.

They met Alya and Cap Guy again on the steps down. Marinette smiled at her friend and filled her in on the tour she would take Damian on. Alya pretended to whine a little, but wished them fun before passing them to get to the classroom. 

The bell rang, and Marinette walked down the stairs to the courtyard.

Sighing, Damian followed her.

Surprisingly, the "tour" wasn‘t as tedious as he would have expected, as his guide was in a good mood while showing him around. She took him to a few classrooms he would likely have to find at one point or another, told him about the different teachers (and actually showed him the crazy P.E. teacher in the courtyard, who was apparently a fencing fanatic and liked to speak with a…medieval dialect), and explained to him a few workings of the school she hadn‘t previously had the time to. 

All in all, it was quite informative.

The art room in particular looked promising. 

Afterwards, they sat down in the locker room and compiled a list of things they would need to buy in the afternoon and decided on when exactly Damian would tell the class about his "situation".

Damian thought that they should tell them when no teacher who might counter-act their plan was present, but Marinette was convinced that they needed to tell Miss Bustier and have her on their side, as she was sure her parents might not allow him to stay otherwise. 

Whatever.

In the end, he went along with Marinette‘s plan of telling the class right after lunch, when they had another subject taught by Miss Bustier. He still thought they shouldn‘t complicate the plan needlessly with the inclusion of a "responsible adult", but he decided to keep any further doubts to himself.

Before long, the first period was over and the two returned to class. 

At the end of the second period, he quickly walked to the front and told Miss Bustier that he would need to talk to her and the class later today. The teacher looked confused but, after a little persuasion, agreed to his plan of making an announcement after lunch. She wanted him to come back though before lunch ended, so they would have the time to properly talk.

Just him and an overbearing teacher.

How… fun.

After that double period of French, they had Social Studies with a teacher called Mrs Carpentier.

It was... a very enlightening subject. The teacher gave them a quiz on current global events. It helped with Damian‘s understanding of the universe he had found himself in, but he couldn’t quite answer everything. However, he planned on filling any gaps over the course of this week. He made sure to pay close attention to Mrs Carpentier‘s lecture.

Then they had maths, in which Damian helped out his desk neighbour again. Big Boy wasn‘t much better than yesterday, and Damian was quite sure that it would be a while before he would see any true progress, but Big Boy was trying. That much became obvious when he noticed Big Boy trying to answer the questions on his sheet, before getting frustrated and turning that kicked-puppy-look towards him.

Damian would die before he admitted that the look worked on him.

During the short breaks between subjects, the children crowded around him again, but Too Sweet left him mostly alone. But Damian didn‘t trust that silence. Whenever he happened to glance at her, her calculating gaze was trained on him, but once she noticed his attention, her mouth would curl into a smile. Too kind. Too happy. Too...sweet.

Damian narrowed his eyes.

No, he didn‘t trust that silence at all

Lunch too was a mostly quiet affair, with the same group of children as last time. Due to Marinette‘s aversion to Too Sweet, they sat a comfortable distance away from her and her gaggle of followers. Damian wasn‘t about to complain.

"So, uh, Damian, what did you think of today? And our school? And us- I mean, the classes?"

Damian paused at Pretty Boy‘s words. After a second, he put his fork down and faced him directly.

"It was...alright", he settled on. "The classes are as in any school"-easy-"and your building is quite big, but easy enough to navigate." Leaning back a little, Damian thought of what else to say. What would a normal teenager say about-

Oh.

"Your fencing teacher is completely whack."

The whole table stared at him. Cap Guy swallowed some juice wrong and started coughing, and even Marinette did a double take. 

Damian shrugged and continued eating his omelette.

About halfway through the lunch break, Damian excused himself. His classmates still looked to be in shock, but Marinette nodded dazedly, so he went back to the classroom to meet with the teacher.

He could already tell that this talk was going to be highly irritating, and not particularly good for his already shortened temper. She was going to treat him like an idiot child, and it was going to be a struggle to balance the act of a teenager with his cold persuasion he would need. Juggling bat-trained crime-fighter with irrational teenager was not something Damian exceled in. Was Miss Bustier going to buy it and, more importantly, would she agree that Marinette’s would be the best place to stay at?

Such a hassle.

Right now, Damian really wished for nothing more than Father finding him _right now_ so he wouldn‘t have to continue this farce any longer.

But of course, no-one magically appeared to take him home.

"Tt."

Instead, Damian steeled himself with a deep breath and opened the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Ok so first, important question:**
> 
> Would you guys prefer to have shorter chapters more often, or longer chapter a little more spaced out? (By short chapters I mean 1.000~2.000 words, longer chapters would be 5.000~10.000 words)
> 
> Please comment or tell me on Discord if you have time ^-^“
> 
> Now some other stuff I thought was neat and wanted to tell you hhhhngh
> 
> I invented Mrs Carpentier, the Social Studies and Geography teacher at Collège Françoise Dupont. She is a tall dark-skinned woman with black coils to her shoulder and wears a yellow blouse, black trousers and yellow ballerinas. Some students refer to her as "Mme Abeille" (Mrs Bee), which really annoys Chloé because of her Queen Bee superhero identity. Mrs Carpentier, however, secretly loves the nickname and wears black socks with a big bee on the sole. Sadly, she can never admit it, because she has the reputation of a very stern but fair teacher to uphold (think a young McGonagall).
> 
> She’s not important, I just think she‘s neat.
> 
> Also, I kind of based the entire Plan RCM on an experience I made in 9th grade. We had a Canadian student for the year, and in the middle of her stay, her parents had a falling-out with her host family. She told the teacher and our class, and in the end, we settled on a kind of rotation system with two of her new friends in our class, and everything worked out. I have no idea if that is how something like that is normally handled, but it worked for us, so I‘ll let it work for Damian too, haha.
> 
> As always, this work is unbetaed. Thank you so much for reading! Comments absolutely make my day, and if you have any criticism or just any thoughts about this fic in general, I would love to hear them!

**Author's Note:**

> Come talk to me on Discord with this link! https://discord.gg/vKwSD3g


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